The Age of the Patronus
by Queen Issy
Summary: Decades have passed since the Harry Potter Era, and a new breed of evil begins to show itself. This is the story of four souls: Isis Frost, Richard Donnohan, Celeste Connelly, and Kainan Ellwood. Betrayal, angst, unrequited love, and even a baby.
1. Chapter One, Isis

Note: Sorry for the long drawn out backstory. The story can be a bit confusing without it. This story is a generation after the Next Generation. :) Enjoy.

* * *

_August 23rd, 2020_

_Ronald Weasley's body was found on the streets of London. Witnesses reported a man who Harry instantly recognized as Theodore Nott. After erasing the Muggle's memories, Harry spent five months tracking him down, and eventually destroyed him. The memorial for Ron still stands, as well as his picture in the Auror Hall of Fame._

_May 1st, Year 2030_

_A seemingly calm and peaceful day, it soon turned tragic. Harry Potter, Head Auror, received a tip that there was to be a Death Eater gathering in the graveyard where Tom Riddle Sr. was buried. This struck a nerve with Harry, as his best friend had been killed by a rogue Death Eater. He rounded up some of his top Aurors: his son, James Potter, his nephew Hugo Weasley, his second in command William Donnohan, his godson Teddy Lupin, his 'protegee' Victor Hughes, and a select few. Though they sent scouts in first, everything seemed clear until they reached the gravesight. It soon proved to be nothing but an ambush - three wizards were killed that day. It was said that Harry died defending his sons, James and Teddy, and that James was killed after viciously attacking the man that slew his father. Hugo Weasley also perished. It is not known whether this attack had anything to do with the recent Fall of Hogwarts, but it was a sad day for the Wizarding World - they had lost their hero. A memorial was held for weeks for the fallen Aurors, and the mass funeral was attended to by thousands. William Donnohan became Head Auror in Harry Potter's place._

_April 13th, 2040_

_Once again, it seems to be a normal day at the Ministry of Magic. Tension has been building up, with odd Dementor sightings and Muggle attacks. Suddenly, from every corner appears a hood and mask, wands drawn. Since there seemed to be no security breaches, it is assumed that the attack came from inside the Ministry itself. While it was a distraction for a later, more cataclysmic event, many of the Wizarding World's finest perished. Hermione Granger, nominee for Minister of Magic for whenever Minister Chadwick meant to resign, was one of the last fighters remaining. She is remembered with honor, as well as Lucy Weasley and Lily Luna Potter. She is survived by the last Potter child - Albus Severus Potter. Since then, many people have left the Ministry. It is now under more strict control, with higher security and more detail. However, most of the population has discovered that this is simply a cover. The Ministry is now overrun with Dark Force members, making it impossible for Muggle-borns to work there. Dementors guard every floor, and the Wizengamot has almost completely been eradicated. All that is left, is seems, is now Minister of Magic Edmund Frost, and a handful of souls for each floor._

_April 13, 2040_

_As nighttime falls on Hogwarts, another darkness descends on the castle. Dementors storm the castle, surprising the staff while several dozen masked figures come behind them. Within only hours, the school is occupied by the woman only known as The Mistress. In the attack, all but two professors died, including one of the heroes of the Second War, Neville Longbottom. Over eighty percent of the school population was captured. Reports of their current status are unknown. Since then, many attempts at raids have been attempted, but no one has ever made it past the Apparition barrier. Many have died in the raids since, including Head Auror William Donnohan. He is remembered with honor and glory, as are the hundreds of souls lost at Hogwarts. The complete list of souls lost at Hogwarts can be found in the Memorial at Patronus Academy._

* * *

Decades have passed since the Harry Potter Era, and for a while there was a time of peace and prosperity, but it wasn't long after the Wizarding Hero's death that a new breed of evil began to show itself. After the banishing of The Dark Lord Voldemort, Dementors had gone into hiding, but they never truly died out. Instead, they began to breed and multiply under a unknown force until one day the launched an attack against the Wizarding youth of England: they attacked Hogwarts. While some students did manage to escape, many families felt the loss of a loved one. The disbanding of the Ministry had happened earlier that day, but no one could forget the tragedy that befell the beloved school.

Though many revolutions occurred, no one was ever strong enough to save the students and banish the Dementors. Many people died in the revolutions and rebellions, and most families have died out or been shattered. Since then, the Ministry of Magic has fallen under what the Order fears is the wrong hands, the hands of Edmund Frost. The Order of the Phoenix is beginning to reform, since the Ministry has been taken over and 'purged' of its 'unworthy' members. Raids take place every week, the Daily Prophet's pages are splattered with bloodshed. All the Wizarding World can fear is a name: The Mistress.

It is a time of loss and despair, but now there is a new hope...

A new school has formed under retired Auror Aurelia Lightwick, and with her professors formed from the Order members, they have created a school designed to defend and protect the wizarding youth. A new school that will prepare it's students for the hard times they will face. This school is a candle in the darkness for England, a hope that most have no felt in years.

This is the Age of the Patronus. This is their story.

* * *

The Three Houses of Patronus Academy

The first house of Patronus Academy is the **Lion **House.

Students of the Lion House often exhibit traits of loyalty and bravery.

It is the house of the noble as well as the proud.

**Head of House: Eleanor Potter, Flying Professor**

The second house is the **Badger **House.

They are known for their honesty, commitment, and hard work.

Students of this house are known to be generous, loyal, compassionate.

**Head of House: Arthur Strode, History Professor**

The third house is the house of the **Raven**, and the house of intelligence.

Synonymous with cunning and resourcefulness,

Ravens are not to be overlooked.

**Head of House: Rowan Hallow, Potions Professor**

**

* * *

**

Name: _Isis Frost_

Gender: _Female_

Age: _16_

Wand: _13", Ebony, Dragon Heartstring with a Chimera Scale_

House: _Former Slytherin, Current Raven_

Most Personal Desires:

_1. To make a name for herself._

_2. To be in control._

_3. To be the best._

_

* * *

_

The truth about the headmaster's death?

The Prophet had described his killer as a white-haired, middle aged man, because that was what someone had thought that they had seen. The truth... well, Isis wasn't sure of the truth anymore. What she _did _know was what she and Bellatrix had been given a very important assignment the day that Hogwarts was supposed to fall: to get the Headmaster out of the way. Isis could still see the light leave his eyes as both girls uttered that single curse. Now, whose Killing Curse had gotten there first and actually taken his life? No one would ever know. It's not like it mattered to Isis. It had been a job and they had done it, as simple as that. She didn't regret a single thing about that night except maybe that one. Maybe the Headmaster's life shouldn't have been taken? Now, that was a crazy thought for someone like her, but truth be told Isis wasn't like everyone thought. She was by no means good, but she knew that the old professor's time had not been up. It would have been different if he had been a tyrant, or a captor, but he was neither. He was simply in the way.

_"Miss Frost, is there something you wish to speak to me about?" The old headmaster's voice reached the raven-haired girl and her smiling expression froze. Did he know? How could he possibly know? He probably had no idea about her assignment. Well, it wasn't exactly her's anymore, but Bellatrix's as well. She'd been training for it all of her life and she knew that she would succeed. "Miss Frost?" Isis looked up sharply and cleared her throat. _

_"Of course not, professor," she replied respectfully. But by the look on his face, he wasn't believing her infallible act. Leaning in closer, Isis hoped he couldn't hear her heartbeat. How could he always seem to look right through her? No one had ever been able to do that before, and it bothered and frightened her. _

_"You know that anything you tell me will be completely confidential. If you needed help-" Isis cut him off, her face cold and her mind clear. _

_"Sorry professor, but I don't know what you're talking about. Now, I'd better not be late to Charms. Good day, sir."_

Isis knew this wasn't guilt. She didn't feel bad because she had murdered someone. She felt grief for a great man - and he was indeed a great man. How could he have known that the two Slytherins who had asked to come and see him would be the very reason that Hogwarts would fall that night? As she slipped into the room Bella was supposed to meet her in, her usual smirk returned as well. If Isis weren't such a good actress, she would be dead by now. For all anyone else would know, she was gleaming with pride at the fact that the headmaster had fallen at their hands. As if she had enjoyed the killing. Even if she did enjoy a good torture now and again, Isis didn't think that she could ever truly enjoy killing for the sport. Maybe for revenge, but never for entertainment. Not like her dear cousin Bella. Bless her soul. "Bella," she greeted, her eyes sparkling with their secret.

"Lovely to see you, Issy," her cousin said with a smile. Ah, Bella. Her companion since they were old enough to know that they were cousins. Their resemblance was quite obvious, they both had the same long dark hair, the same prominent cheek bones, and green eyes. There was only one difference that kept them from looking like twins: Isis's hair was pin straight, while Bella's mane was a mass of wild curls. Both of them were now sixteen, Sixth years, though Bella had not been given the title of Prefect like she herself, it had never seemed like an issue.

"This certainly is a dreadful school, isn't it? They couldn't even be bothered to have a Serpent house," Isis complained lightly before taking a seat at the candle-lit table. Taking the girl's hands she kissed her cheek in their usual greeting.

Bella was quick to reply, not hiding her hatred for the castle. "Yes, it's simply dreadful, being called a Raven," her lip curling in disgust at the mention of the house she had been sorted into. "But there's less filth here, the blood traitors should be next," the words slipped from her tongue, and Isis's smirk widened as she continued.

"Father sent word only yesterday. They have been more successful than they could have ever dreamt," she said, leaning in and lowering her voice, "which means great rewards for us."

* * *

Isis knew that continuing to go to school would be a bit hard. Patronus Academy? What a load of bull. She'd been expecting to be out of school for _years_, giving her plenty of leisure time to do whatever the hell she wanted, train and practice when she wanted, but it appeared that was going to happen, as the new school ha been built over a the summer. With her father's 'campaign' for Minister, she was expected to be here. The events of the last year still haunted her, especially in her sleep. While her cousin Bellatrix seemed fine about the man they had been ordered to assassinate, Issy knew it was because the girl didn't even have a heart. Isis was sure she had one. Somewhere. When she wanted to...

But that final curse that had left her lips, silencing the old Headmaster forever, would eternally echo in the depths of her mind. Not that she would ever let it show that she had a morsel of regret for being responsible for the death of plenty and the capture of Hogwarts. It wasn't that she regretted anything. She didn't want to take back giving inside information and personally transporting several Dementors and dark wizards through the darkened halls of Hogwarts. It was killing a man she respected, a man who had never done anything but try to help her when she certainly didn't want to be helped. Isis's long black hair fell down in curly waves over her chest, which was only partially covered by her revealing dress that only fell down to her thighs. She had worn it because of Leonis Carrow, and had wanted to see how far down his mouth would hang.

Her long, slender legs carried up gracefully up the stairs to the Owlery, where she would maybe try to write and send a letter back home. Father had ordered her to write twice a week a report on the new school, but there was only so much she could really tell him. The school was well protected, and she knew that the Mistress would never get in. Just as she turned the corner though, her eyes caught sight of a very attractive male Badger. Dark brown hair fell perfectly into his eyes, and that face of his seemed to be sculpted by some kind of angel. Quidditch had turned him into a boy most sought after by the females of Hogwarts, and now Patronus Academy. His haunting green eyes found her own as if they had been waiting for her, and she immediately put up a face of disgust.

"Well, hullo," his voice said. No matter what she did, Isis would never admit exactly how attractive she found his voice. After all, he was filth. A mud-blood. "I see that her majesty has decided that this castle is fit to her liking and thought to grace it with her beautiful presence. I'm honestly surprised you're here. You, Dranzer, and Carrow..." Issy let a smirk cross her features at the word beautiful, but not because she thought he was complimenting her. No, she knew better than that. Damon Anglin had been her school rival since first year, when a load of her friends had been making fun of his impure blood. He had assumed that she had been too, and had pulled out his wand on her when he had found her by herself one day. Though no curses had ever been shared between them, a number of words had. They were known for disrupting class, verbal spars in the corridors, and having a knack for pissing each other off.

"Hello, Filth," she hissed. "I see you made it out of the desperate pit of Mud-Bloods that they called Hogwarts." Isis took a step closer so that they were only a few feet apart, her eyes narrowing almost playfully. "Tell me, what do you see when they pass you by? The Dementors... I hope it's me." Here she let out a cold laugh as she looked up into his piercing green eyes. Mud-Blood Anglin pretended to yawn, causing Issy to cross her arms and roll her eyes, unamused. She had seen the look flash in his eyes, knowing that he was covering up what she had made him feel.

"Sorry I find your humor boring. I don't think I'd laugh at that one if I was in primary school. But no, I don't see you when they pass by. The only people that are scared of you are ickle firsties and cats. Y'know, afraid you're going to use them for a sacrifice to your father... the devil?" Isis's stare narrowed and iced over.

"And you're such a saint, Mud-Blood. Would you care to share your latest reading for us? Let me guess... is it _Dark Arts for Dimwits_? Or _If Only My Parents Weren't Such Unworthy Muggles_?" Her eyes flashed much like his had as she remembered the time he had left his books in their DADA class, and she'd happened upon a text that she also owned, only it wasn't something she'd been expecting from Damon Anglin. "Better watch out for Damon Anglin. Maybe he'll turn out to be the next Lord Voldemort? Oh, maybe we can go sign up together when the Dementors have their next recruit," she replied easily and swiftly.

She would never forget the day that she had found the Dark Arts books in his possession. Books she herself owned and had studied once upon a time. She'd been training since she was old enough to hold a wand, her parents made sure of that. They didn't breed the perfect child so that she could have average magical skills. "Oh, don't be jealous, Frost. If you want some pointers, then I'll be glad to show you. Your place or mine?" he said, and Issy laughed again, rolling her eyes.

"Trust me Anglin, there's nothing you could show me that would impress me. I doubt you could teach me much, but I could show you a few things you can't get from your Muggle girls." Of course, now that they were teenagers, what with raging hormones and all, there was always an innuendo thrown into the conversation. "It's a shame you aren't worth anything, Mud-blood. Maybe I could put you to good use," Isis added, always having to mention something about how he was a piece of nothing. What kind of pure-blood would she be if she didn't? He took a step back, so Isis did as well, but she still stayed close enough to where she could reach out and touch him - not that she would, of course.

"Good use?" he asked, "You mean like Carrow? The bloke's a power hungry idiot, though I guess you go for guys like that. Or is he just a good shag? It's either that or his family's bribed you off so you don't tell everyone about his small problem." Actually, she didn't mean like Leonis. Isis had meant something else entirely. Something perhaps involving a use of restraints.

"If I were going for power hungry idiots with a tiny Johnson I would have headed straight your way, Anglin," she spat right back at him, adding a wink for flair.

Damon took a few steps back, a smirk evident on his face. "I have to admit, that was a good one. You're getting better. Did you buy the latest edition of _Insults to Throw At Your Wizarding School Enemy_? You sneaky girl." Isis found herself rolling her eyes. That tone of his was disgusting on anyone, let alone Damon Anglin. She hated it, but it didn't really get to her. Nothing Anglin ever said got past her barriers. "If I wasn't such a filthy mud-blood, and you were such a cold bitch, then maybe you would see how a real man does things."

Isis stood on her tiptoe and looked over him and then behind her, as if she were looking for something. "Do you know a real man then?" she asked. "Could you introduce me? Because there certainly aren't any around here." Her tone was much like Damon's, only it was as if she were speaking to a first year instead of a sixth. "But you're right probably for the first time in your life, if you weren't so worthless maybe I could show you a good time. And I may be a cold bitch, but you still probably have dreams about me anyway," Isis added in a low tone. The pristine Slytherin - oops, _Raven_ took a step back. "I'd love to stay and chat, but I actually have more important things to do than converse with the likes of you. See you in class, Mud-blood." And with an extra sway of her hips just for his viewing purposes, she walked around him. So what if her feet carried her incredibly close - enough for him to get a nice eyeful. She glided off without another word or so much as a look backwards.

She would be lying if Isis ever said that she thought that Damon Anglin was truly filth. Sure he was an real pain in her arse, but she'd seen him in duels - though now that she thought about it she'd never actually been on the receiving on of his wand - and she'd seen him in classes. He wasn't weak, and he wasn't worthless, so when she greeted him with the name-calling and personal insults that she did it was for an entirely different reason. She had watched his eyes, because if anything was going to change on him, it would be his eyes. Isis was the same way, and she'd been around him long enough - six years, to be exact - to know him just as well as she knew herself. Like the fact that she knew he studied the Arts, but he had no idea the things that Isis had learned as well. While she had never been privileged enough to actually meet The Mistress, her father had taught her some things that she had shown him. Yes, being a Daddy's Girl certainly paid off when it came to being resourceful. She also knew who he hung around with, and was surprised that she didn't see Pretty Boy Wonder Richard Donnohan trailing after him like he normally did. Isis would see him later, like she always did. And she would always be ready for him. A dark smirk crossed her lips, as if she was learned a terrible secret.

* * *

Turning the corner and heading down the steps towards her common room, Isis rolled her eyes as she passed by a group of gossiping girls. As the girl walked by, their whispers and 'shh's grew until they realized exactly how obvious they were being. Issy silenced them with a look. Sometimes she almost found herself slipping into that petty routine, as if she actually cared what the silly bimbos thought about her. Isis Frost knew who she was - why should she let other people's opinions of her affect her? They hadn't ever before. But for some reason it seemed worse now, they all started to come together to form Patronus Academy. The whispering was more widespread, people moved out of her way when she walked by. These things that she should be used to - that she thought she was used to - had taken on a whole different tone. Either way, she didn't let any of this show on her face. What kind of lady would she be if she made a huge display over a few whispers in the hall? Not a Frost, that was for sure. Sure there were rumors her father was a leader of the dark forces, and sure there were rumors that Isis had aided in the Hogwarts takeover. But they were simply that, rumors.

Isis was nearly past the whole entire group, perfectly satisfied with letting everyone part for her. Bella would die if she saw this. Isis kept her head high, her eyes cold as she walked passed, and finally made it out the doors. That was when her façade fell. Taking a few deeps breaths, she rounded the corner and- BAM. She had run right into someone. The force would have sent her sprawling if not for her excellent balance, but she still struggled to stay upright. Looking up, she saw that it was a Lion, someone she was familiar with. His name was something Cromwell - Amos? Adam? - whatever it was she had no use for it. He was a Muggle-lover, unfit to even speak to her by the standards she was supposed to live by. But she hadn't always had these standards, had she? She could still smell the fresh paint of the dance studio, even to this day. But back to the git who had ran into her. He was another Quidditch player, but a Seeker or something, meaning he was too lazy to get buff like the rest of the team. Dark hair, but blue eyes. "Watch it, Cromwell," she barked at him, "Some of us are actually worthy of the air we breathe." The former Slytherin had been insulting people for so long now that it was not only second nature, but half-arsed. She rarely meant a word of it, but said it mostly for pretenses and no one knew the difference. Or so she thought.

"Ouch. Words can cut like a knife, sweetheart, didn't your mother ever tell you that?" Isis raised an eyebrow. Well, wasn't he feisty today? Of course, make a mother joke. Because that was always effective way to piss someone off really quickly. "Oh wait, she wouldn't have, because unlike the rest of humanity, pure-bloods don't give a crap about anyone else. What was that advice she gave you, again? Oh, right... 'Go, fight, kill!" Oh, there it was, the old pure-blood stereotype. Sometimes so-called blood traitors were just as bad as her parents. Couldn't anyone give her a break these days? "So, how's that working out for you?"

Isis really wasn't in the mood to get into a scuffle with some Harry Potter wannabe. If he wanted to take out his little frustrations on her, so be it. She'd have him tied up and begging to take back what he said if he wanted to keep going like he was. "It's working out pretty well, I just had my breakfast feast of little children's hopes and dreams and I'm working up an appetite for some Muggle-Born later," she said sardonically, licking her lips for effect. Of course this only lasted for so long before she rolled her eyes. "Honestly? You're just as bad as any pure-blood when you stereotype them. Why do you think we say all Muggles are filth? It's okay though, you can stoop down all you want, but in the end you'll be crushed like the rest of them," Issy said, narrowing her eyes dangerously. "Could you be any more ignorant? I suppose not, if you were, you wouldn't be able to walk and talk at the same time, now would you?"

"Why should I pretend that I'm not just as bad as everyone else? If you can do it, then why in Merlin's name can't I?" Isis grinned here for the first time.

"Funny, and I thought you were supposed to be the 'good guy' here?" she asked, and rolled her eyes again. At least she knew that it wasn't going to come to wands today. Which was good, the stress she'd been under lately had put a damper on her magical abilities, and she didn't want to give Cromwell another reason to mock her.

"I could ask the same of you. What gives you the right to call them unworthy, then chastise me for doing the same to you?" Letting out a sigh, Isis was growing tired of this banter. To argue things she didn't really care for always tired her out, and today was an especially bad day. Couldn't he just call her a bitch and then move on?

"Because I'm a effing pure-blood, Cromwell, and I can do whatever the hell I want to. Happy?" she said, and attempted to move past him. But it would seem that she wasn't going to get off that fast. He took a step closer, blocking her path. "Ignorance is the curse of humanity, darling, and you'd best get used to it. Don't you ever get sick of being who they want you to be?"

_Don't you ever get sick of being who they want you to be?_

Isis froze, her last nerve finally hit. She was torn between crying - for her eyes were surely filling with tears now, as she stood there - and a fit of rage, as her fists began to ball up. She couldn't understand why this one little question elicited such an emotional response within her, and she didn't want to think about it. Her father may have loved his wealth, his position, his status, but Isis could hardly stand it anymore. She _was _sick of being who they wanted her to be. Who they _demanded _that she be. "Fuck off, Cromwell. You don't know a damn thing!" Isis hissed, and used all of her force, which wasn't much at the moment, to push against his chest and turn away from him, discreetly wiping the tears from her cheeks. Isis Frost didn't cry. Hell, she didn't even produce tears. He didn't know what she went though. He had no idea.

Isis turned away from him, but her legs froze and she found that she couldn't move. Her entire body shook with the held back rage and sadness, but she could not force herself to run away. That would have made things so much easier, if she could just run away from everything. But that wasn't how a Frost did things. Frosts faced their fears, overcame them, and did it all with good style and taste. "I may not know much, but I know that pretending to be something you're not can hurt so much it feels like you're dying. I know that we're not built for this, any of us. We'll never be who they want us to be. I know that it hurts, more than anything else." She didn't say a thing as he spoke. Why was he doing this? What did he have to gain from this? Just then, she felt it. It was a light touch on her shoulder. As soon as his hand landed, she froze. They remained that way for a moment, and then she began to tremble. It started off as a slight shiver in he heart, but then she was unable to stop. Tears welled up in her eyes once more, and her teeth gritted in her efforts to stop them.

"Don't. Pretend. Like. You. Know. _Anything_." She finally regained the strength to whirl away from him. Isis faced the boy, rage all present in her eyes, even though they were filled with tears. "Don't you understand? This is who I _am_! I _am _Isis Frost! I _am _a pure-blood!" In her rage she had drawn her wand, and held it to his face. She stood there for another moment or so, her breathing ragged and uneven, her eyes narrowed once more. "I know my place, Cromwell. It is time that you learned yours." Isis tried as hard as she could to remain strong, but she knew that her legs would give out in seconds if she didn't get away from his eyes. They were already beginning to haunt her, with that terrible stare of his. What made him think that he could do this to her? Who gave him that power over her? As she turned away from him, tearing off into the darkness, Isis realized that _she _had given him that power. And it scared her to death.

"Isis!" He called out to her, leaving it all up to the Ice Queen. A gesture stating that she still had a choice, whether or not she'd recognize it.


	2. Chapter Two, Richard

Name: _Richard Donnohan_

Gender: _Male_

Age: _15_

Wand:_ 10" Rowan, Hippogriff Talon_

House: _Former Gryffindor, Current Lion_

Most Personal Desires:

_1. To lead the way._

_2. To be great._

_3. To have someone to love._

_

* * *

_

As Richard looked up at his new school, this 'Patronus Academy', he started to wonder what he was even doing here. The Dark Force wasn't going to stop with Hogwarts. Ever Richard knew it was the people they were after, not the buildings themselves. But this school was supposed to have higher protection, it was supposed to be safer than Hogwarts could have ever dreamed of. Richard remembered his first day at Hogwarts, how he had been so excited to join that Quidditch team, to play on the same side as his brother. Patrick. The two boys were almost identical, only Richard wasn't as tall. Both were lean and broad-shouldered, with wavy blonde locks and a pair of stunning grey-blue eyes. They were the spitting image of their father, William. Richard had looked up to his brother possibly more than he had looked up to his father and he could still see Pat's face, gleaming with pride as he raced after the the Quaffle.

But another image flashed through the blonde's mind, and he screwed his eyes shut, trying to forget the last time he had seen Patrick. That was a memory that he worked so far to forget, to leave at the school that he had fled. His mum and dad had pressed and pressed for him to tell them what happened, but Richard couldn't speak about it. He could hardly even think about it, and soon his fists were clenched. Today was a hard day to forget, and he soon found himself reliving the terrible memory. Patrick's stunned face as the students began running past him, his eyes searching for Richard. People were screaming, crying, shouting. Some were frightened, others were looking for friends or siblings. Amidst all of the shouting, the younger Donnohan managed to find the elder one. Their grey eyes met and they both rushed forward, shoving against the dissipating crowd. Patrick always looked out for him, no matter how much in danger he was and this was no exception. As the jet of light came towards them-

Richard bent over and lost his stomach behind the bushes. This time the memory had been so fresh and sharp and so damn _clear_. He'd seen death that night, more than he ever thought he would. Gruesome deaths and quick deaths; he'd even seen souls being sucked out of children, their bodies falling to the ground, limp. Richard looked around as he wiped the bile from the corner of his mouth, and seeing no one he moved into the greenhouses. Feeling disgusted with himself, he quickly located a water hose to rinse out his mouth with. He even rubbed a bit of the cold water on his face, as if to wash away the memory. While he missed his friends, he was glad Reagan, Reggie and Damon hadn't been around to see him like this. Richard wiped his face, attempting to dry it off. His chest ached like it did whenever he was remembering, whenever he couldn't just forget.

He'd thought that since he'd be away from the house and from his mum, Richard would have less reminders of his dad and Patrick, but he thought of them even more. Especially Patrick. There was just something not right about everything that was going on, especially his brother. One minute he had been leading the way and the next he had gone, nowhere in sight. Richard had spent his morning at the Quidditch Pitch, flying around. It seemed to be the only thing to get his mind off of the attacks, and he often found himself doing whatever he could to forget. Remembering was too hard, especially when he remembered how great his life had been. Patrick, the most popular bloke in school, someone everyone looked up to. Quidditch Captain, Head Boy. Everything. And now he was gone. Not to mention their father - he'd been so upset when Patrick hadn't come home. What he said still chilled Richard to the bone. _"I lost both of my sons that night." _How could he have said such a thing? Sure he was angry and upset, but still... Before Richard had a chance to clear things up, his father was killed as well.

Suddenly the greenhouse door swing shut, Richard instinctively ducked - he wasn't sure if students were allowed in here or not. But as he looked up, it was someone he wasn't expecting. Light brown hair framed her face, the darkness of her eyes is emphasized by the paleness of her skin. She had been considered beautiful and regal in the past, but after the attack on Hogwarts and her family, she appeared to have shrunk in on herself. Shadows of her former regal nature remained, but they were only shadows. Her name was Constance Bennett, and she'd lost her family to a group of rogue Dementors before the Hogwarts attack. He remembered feeling sorry for her, and for the looks she got in the hallways. Back then he could have never imagined losing a family member to something like the Dementors, but now that he had lost not only his brother, but his father as well, he didn't feel so sorry anymore. In fact he felt bad for pitying her, and not only that but he knew why she acted like she did. Before, she had been popular, just like he had. Now he wanted to do just what she had done - he wanted to cut himself away from everyone, to cut his own heart out.

She didn't noticed him at first, but then he stood up straight and their eyes locked. As he looked into her eyes, he could see that same gut-wrenching pain, that same lack of spirit he fought so hard. But he couldn't hide it. Not now. Not after Patrick. Not after his father. Richard's grey eyes gazed into hers through those long yellow lashes of his, and he wondered if she would run away from him, like she ran away from everyone else. She always seemed to disappear whenever she didn't want to be found - it was something he had noticed about her before. Whenever Constance didn't want to be found, she wasn't.

The girl took a few steps forward, which surprised Richard. He had expected her to just walk right back out. Her fingers slipped into the baby Devil's Snare plant, and Richard made his way around to the opposite side of the table. "I was expecting the greenhouses to be empty," she said to him, and there was a small silence before he answered.

"As was I," he admitted truthfully.

"Not many students show an interest in Herbology this early in the year," Constance said, something resembling what might have been a smile crossing her lips. He nodded, almost wanted to smile himself. Richard had _never _shown an interest in Herbology, in fact he was quite terrible at it. He rarely even showed up for the class. There had been a rumor that it would be combined with Care of Magical Creatures, another class he did not particularly enjoy.

"Not many students show an interest in Herbology at all, but you'd still be surprised who you find in here sometimes," he replied, and looked back up at her. They were so different as people, but he was starting to get the feeling that they had more in common than either of them knew. The row of Devil's Snare reached over to him, and he too found his fingers winding in the soft leaves that were hardly strong enough to grip his finger. That was what he felt like - trying to hard to hold on to his life as it once was, but realized himself unable to find the strength. But Constance had lost her whole family, and Richard still had his mum. One last person to cling to, but neither of them spoke at all. They would soon become strangers at this rate. "Is this why you hide?" he asked after a small moment of silence, looking back up at her with that same expression on his face. Because that was all Richard wanted to do. To hide away.

Richard remembered Constance before her family had been taken. She was a socialite, a spotlight stealer. Though Richard had never gotten intertwined in her little group, as there were too many cold bitches like Isis Frost, he had dated several of her 'friends', and had been just as much of a social butterfly. He was popular, just like his older brother. Probably even more so, but Patrick was always older, always better at everything he ever did. Just like every time he thought about his older brother, a jolt of pain went through his heart. He then noticed how Constance's eyes never looked up again, as if she were willing herself not to meet his eyes. He understood, but at the same time he wanted so badly to talk, he wanted to talk to someone who understood. He hadn't been able to think about telling Damon or even Reggie, but why did he want so badly for this girl to open up to him? Or at least not shut him out.

Richard's question had been completely sincere. He felt the desire to hide his feeling, to hide himself from the world. To cut off all ties between him and his friends. That had actually been his plan - finish school and then get the hell out. But he knew that would only tear him apart even more. Constance's reaction was instant. She froze up, and Richard could see the fear. How he knew he would react if someone asked him how his father was, how his brother was.

"I'm not the right person for... this." She had no idea how right she was for this. Richard didn't want to let this consume him as it was already doing. He wanted to tear the ache right from his body and cast it aside, and he wanted to do this so badly that he would do anything. The girl turned around, putting her back to him. As her skinny arms wrapped around herself, he noticed that she was entirely too thin. Had she always been that skinny? "I can't... talk about this. You'd better leave." _What? _Richard felt it, a cold hardness in his stomach that made his fists clench. He was torn between empathy for her and anger. She wasn't the only damn person in the world suffering! The idea of searching for Damon just to talk about his feelings made him want to wretch again. That was when he made up his mind.

"_Leave_."

Her tone had begged him, but he would not give it. "No," he replied, his voice just as pathetic as hers had been. "Not until you tell me." With a shaky wave of his wand, he locked it from the inside, so that no one could get in. One could easier get out of the greenhouses, as the only way to lock it was from the inside, but he wasn't going to let someone interrupt this. Moving around the table, he took a few hesitant steps towards her, but not too close. "Talk to me."

"You didn't want to talk to me when my family..." Richard swallowed hard, knowing just how hard it would have been to finish that statement. But it still cut him. No, he hadn't tried to talk to her. Why should he? She ignored everyone, shunned her closest friends. She became a recluse. Richard had still been on top of the world, only worrying about the next Quidditch match and how many girls he'd score at the afterparty. "No one wanted to," she added quietly.

"Would you have spoken to anyone? Don't lie to me and say you would have opened up then." He took another step closer, but still kept his distance. Her back was to him, but that didn't matter. Something told him to stay, and he wasn't leaving until he knew why.

"You have friends," she said, almost accusing. Yes, he did. But he couldn't talk to them any more than she had been able to talk to hers. How could he? They hadn't known what he had. Neither of the Weasley twins Reggie or Reagan had lost anyone they really cared about. Saywer had lost her brother, but he had never been particularly close to her. Parker was just out of the question: he couldn't break down like that. And Damon... well, he still had whatever kept him going. Richard didn't. He'd lost... everything. "Go to them. They know what you want. I don't. I can't... help anyone." Her voice was beginning to shake, and Richard felt that pang again, that pain that cut him to the bone. "There's nothing I can do."

"Just... go. Please." He was torn. Half of him heard the plea in her voice, and knew that he should go. But the other half knew that he had to stay. He couldn't become what he knew he would, and he knew that would happen if he left. So what could he do? Richard's feet couldn't move, and he felt frozen, watching Constance collapse in on herself. He knew that was what was going on inside of him, but he was as helpless to stop it as she was. "I'm not going to leave you. Don't you understand that? I'm not going to just leave and act like everything is okay when it's not. Why can't you see that?" But she had a question for him, too.

"How do you talk?" she asked, but Richard didn't answer. He had been wondering this himself, but he knew that he would find a way if he was given the chance. If Constance would only give him the chance. Isn't that how people healed? He saw what was happening to his mother, how she was slowly dying away, but poisoning everyone around her before she went. Like Richard. Because she never talked. She just stayed in her damn glass house and put on a show, writing to him and telling him not to come home. "You can't talk about... things like that." Richard took one more step closer and stopped there, knowing that he had already crossed enough lines for the day.

"You can. I promise, you can," he assured her, and truly believed what he said. Richard never said anything and didn't mean it, it just wasn't the way he did things. Like Constance, he'd been the party boy. Hitting on all of the pretty girls, though not in a way that would cause them to look down on him. He was a Quidditch player since his second year, a damn good one. He'd been to every party in the Gryffindor Common Room since he was twelve. He wasn't called 'Playboy' by his closest friend for nothing. But, like Constance, Richard was starting to get the feeling that this was all over for him. He didn't want that life any more than he wanted to jump off a cliff; while it would be welcome, it just wasn't going to happen. So far he had tried so _damn _hard to pretend it wasn't so, to pretend he was the exact same. But he wasn't.

Then she looked up into his eyes, and he could see her. Her pain, her sorrow, her grief. He could see himself in her eyes, reflecting back at him like a mirror. She was breaking apart. Tears fell down her face, and Richard fought to keep them out of his eyes as well. "I can still hear Bess screaming." The statement struck him like an arrow, but he didn't say a word. "When it's dark, and there's no one there... I hear her, Richard. She's screaming and I can't-" she cut off, and took a step away from him, and he could hear her sobs now, and see them racking against her frail torso.

Finally, he could help it. Richard moved forward, pulling her closer to him. She was smaller than he thought she would be, and he got the impression that if he applied any kind of force she would simply break in half. "We can't change the past, Constance," he said after a moment. "You don't know how badly I wish I could, for the both of us. For everyone." Richard's voice wavered here, and he had to pause. "Your family loved you-" he said, and his voice caught here. He couldn't go on. _Her family loved her_. Richard thought of his father's last words to him, and his mother's orders not to come home and suddenly he was fighting, too. But somehow, it was Constance, who was falling apart as well, that kept him from completely crashing.

"Don't let go." This caught him by surprise, and it took him a moment to fully register what she had said. _Don't let go._ He responded by giving her a gentle squeeze. She must have been just as taken aback by her own statement as he was, because she began to wipe her eyes and get ready to pull away. "Sorry." He didn't understand why she was apologizing. Out of all people she had nothing to be sorry for. "I'm just... I don't know how to do this." But then he understood. He didn't know how, but he knew that if he could be strong now, he could be strong whenever he needed to. "This is why I tell people to leave." She kept wiping at her eyes, and soon Richard reached out and took both of her tiny hands in one of his, and with the thumb of his other wiped away a few stray tears she had missed. Her apologetic look made him truly sad, and he wanted to just wipe it clean off her face. "I should have been with them."

Instantly Richard froze, his mind jarring before reeling back to that same old clip he had tried so hard to burn away. Patrick's stormy gray eyes narrowing as he searched through the crowd, scanning the faces of children until Richard finally caught his attention, before they were tragically separated. The younger boy's breath caught in his throat as his father slammed him against the wall, his face turning red as he demanded an explanation, and finally the slamming of the front door, marking the last time that Auror William Donnohan would ever be seen alive by his family. _This is all your fault. _His mother's words echoed through him and it took him a moment to regain himself, to bottle all of this up. He was a bit better at hiding than Constance was, but he knew with a wave of grief that it would only come back later and hit him harder, and even harder the next time. He didn't know what he would do when it became too much, but he could only hope he would learn how to cope with it by then.

"I'm not leaving. I don't know how many times I have to tell you. And you have nothing to be sorry for. So stop with that, okay?" he asked, offering a small smile in return. Once more, he wrapped his arms around her frame, resting his head against hers. In a soft voice just next to her ear, he whispered only three words: "Don't let go." He wondered for a moment, if someone were to put their two hearts together, would there be enough left to make a whole one again?

"I won't," she told him finally. "I'll... try." He only nodded to this, as his throat was closing just as well, and he didn't want her to hear his struggle. Not when she was dealing with her own. "I don't know what to do without them. I need them to come back. I need them." Richard didn't know what he needed. He couldn't return to his old life, he didn't think that it would welcome him back as easily as it would for Constance. Her family probably wanted to be with her as much as she wanted to be with them, but it wasn't the case with Richard. After Patrick, his family had blown up, piece by piece, until there was nothing left but broken hearts and shattered glass.

"I know," he told her gruffly. "You keep living, Constance. You don't just give up, but you live in their memory. You don't have to forget them," he tried to explain to her, but felt almost distant from his words. As if someone else was saying them to him, instead of the other way around. "Or else they will have died for nothing." Like Patrick. _You survived while your own flesh and blood did not. You should have stayed with him. You're no son of mine. I have no sons anymore._


	3. Chapter Three, Celeste

Name: _Celeste Connelly_

Gender: _Female_

Age: _19_

Wand: _13" Hazel, Fairy wings_

Occupation: _Daily Prophet Reporter_

Most Personal Desires:

_1. To have her own family._

_2. To do whatever she can to help the Order._

_3. To interpret her visions and prophecies correctly, _

_and somehow be able to tap into her Inner Eye._

_

* * *

_

Celeste was born in 2021 to Muggles Serena and David Connelly. Serena, a big artist in the city, hadn't planned on having a child - and neither had David, a gallery owner in London. Celeste was somewhat of an 'accident,' and her status with her parents didn't improve much over the years. It was enough that from when she was young she displayed odd signs of intuition and freak accidents that greatly disturbed her parents, who's already strained relationship was beginning to fall apart completely. She was always a mystery to them, having moments of strange intelligence that troubled her parents deeply - they began to think that something was seriously wrong with their daughter. That was, until the letter from Hogwarts arrived, with a real wizard delivering it. Still shaken, they sent Celeste off without another word. Her parents never truly accepted her for what she was, though they didn't hate her - she was just different.

In school, she found other people like herself, though no one else seemed to be able to explain why she was so intuitive - except for her Divination professor. Divination, while others thought it pointless, was something that she excelled in. Average in her other classes, she had found her niche. Not only that, however, but she had made friends. Celeste was pretty with her ocean blue eyes and long blonde hair, popular, eager to make others happy, and genuinely warm and interested in people. Her first year, she met Nymphadora Lupin, and from their first night in the Gryffindor dormitories, they were instant best friends. Through the years, they stuck together, fighting through whatever was thrown at them. Never once did they doubt each other or their easy friendship, and soon grew to be closer than sisters. It was only natural that Celeste fell for Nymphadora's older brother, the troubled Romulus. Always somewhat of a bad boy, Celeste saw a good heart, and they saw too much of each other not to be attracted. Even when he began to show signs of severe anger and depression, she loved him, and had since her fifth year. They remained together for the next four years, all the while remaining best friends with Nymph.

Celeste made her first prophecy when she was sixteen. It had seemed to be about nothing, but when it was later discovered to have come true, Celeste was recognized as a Seer. She had always been rather intuitive, but until then she'd had no idea what she could do. She graduated Hogwarts and began to work for the Daily Prophet as a freelance writer. She, Romulus, and Nymph all lived together in a large flat on the East side of London. When her best friend joined the Order of the Phoenix, it was only natural that she joined too, though she wasn't sure what she had to offer. She made another prophecy not long after, predicting the "fall of a great kingdom," she'd had no idea that it had meant Hogwarts. When the attacks came not a day later, Celeste had been distraught over not having interpreted her vision correctly, but that wasn't all she had on her plate.

"Rom?" Celeste entered their shared bedroom quietly, as if she were walking on eggshells. Romulus's dark hair fell over his eyes as he wrote his letter. "Is this a bad time?" she asked. Her boyfriend looked up at her, first with anger in his eyes, but then they softened a bit. She could have sworn she'd seen a smile on his face. He set down his pen and turned to her. "I... I have something to tell you." Celeste could see the turmoil that started in his eyes. She was always good at detecting what he was feeling or thinking, though he had been so distant from her lately. She smiled weakly for a moment sitting down on the bed next to him. "It's not really bad... At least, I don't think so," Celeste told him.

His brows furrowed. "What is it?" Romulus asked her.

Taking a deep breath, she looked at he hands. It took her a few moments, but finally she spit it out. "Romulus... I'm pregnant." It was such a cliche thing for a teenage girl to say to her boyfriend, and she could hardly believe the words as they left her mouth. Romulus simply looked at her. She had been hoping that this would settle him down, make him realize that he was loved and there was no reason to be so angry all of the time. But his face remained blank.

"Are you trying to tell me that you've cheated on me?" he asked, his voice deadly calm. Fear struck her heart.

"No, Romulus! No, I'd never. It's... it's your child, Romulus. Our child. A baby girl, I saw her in a vision after I found out, and she's beautiful-" she started to explain, but the light above them shattered. It was then that she could see Romulus's rage.

If he spoke at all, Celeste didn't hear him. Romulus began to tear the room apart, part by magic and part by brute force. She cowered against the bedpost, her eyes unable to understand what was happening. She didn't See this! Celeste hadn't had any idea this was coming. It was as if a hurricane had hit their bedroom, and when Celeste finally opened her eyes to see the destruction, Romulus was gone. Tears in her eyes and a sob choking her, she ran to the fireplace, throwing Floo powder into the fire and sticking her head through. "Teddy!" she called, pleading frantically, her cry desperate. "Teddy Lupin!"

* * *

Nymphadora and Romulus's father had always been incredibly kind to her. He had enjoyed her companionship to his daughter, and had high hopes for his son when he brought her home as his girlfriend. He was always busy with the Order, helping the Leader Victor Hughs and founder, Aurelia Lightwick, as much as he was able to. The loss of his godfather, the man who had raised him, as well as those who he was lucky enough to call his siblings had been hard on him, but Celeste had seen nothing other than a hero, a great man. Less than twenty four hours after she had called them, both Teddy Lupin and Victor Hughes were in her living room.

Victor was a strongly built man, inside and out. He had been one out of only three of the Aurors that Harry Potter had ever chosen to train outside of his own family. Engaged to the infamous Elisabeth Ryder, who was also known for her good deeds, he was a man that everyone looked up to. They were the ones who had recieved Romulus's letter, only an hour after he had left. He had given himself to the Mistress, and had joined the other side. He had abandoned her, and betrayed his family, as well as everyone in the Order. Celeste had always known him to be a bit rough around the edges, but a traitor? That had not been the Romulus she had fallen in love with. It was there, in her living room, that she told them about why he had left, about her pregnancy. They offered her a place to stay at Grimmauld place, a permanent home away from where Romulus could find her, and at first she began to decline. Then, her blue eyes looked around her, to the mess that had been created of her home, of her life, and accepted.

* * *

Celeste had already packed all of her things. Thanks to Eleanor Potter, to whom the house officially belonged, her permanent residence was Grimmauld Place. She would have asked to move in with Nymphadora, but she already did so much for her that Celeste felt that it would strain their relationship - and the last thing she wanted was to upset her best friend. They were far too close for her to want to do something like that. The flat she and Romulus had once shared was now empty, all of his stuff vanished to Merlin knew where. Celeste hadn't looked back. Today, however, she had wanted to get away from Grimmauld place and all of it's odd noises at night, and had decided to trespass on Nymph's hospitality for a little bit. The little flat was completely silent as she lay down most of the day in Nymph's bed, fighting off the waves of nausea and her headaches. But that wasn't where she was when she got the 'feeling' that Nymph would be walking through the door with the supplies to make chicken soup - she was in the bathroom, holding the magical contraption that was supposed to tell her if she was carrying a child or not. Of course Celeste had Seen it, but she still needed proof. Made just like a Muggle pregnancy test, only it was completely accurate.

Celeste heard her best friend walk in the door about the same time that the test was finished. Ah, well there it was. A confirmation of what she already knew. Even though she had already Seen herself having the child, Celeste's eyes began to fill as she thought of what this meant. What everyone would think. Moving into the kitchen, she met Nymphadora's eyes. If there was one person in the world that she would tell, it would be her best friend. Funny to think that they had dreamed of this, that one day they would really be sisters (at least, in law) and she would have cute little baby Lupins. But this wasn't how things were supposed to be. You were supposed to be married before you had children. That was the respectable thing to do. A soft sniffle escaped her as her eyes began to redden. "I'm pregnant." If she had ever need a hug in her entire life, it was now.

While other girls dreamed about their families that they would have one day, Celeste had shied away from that topic. It wasn't that she didn't want a baby - in fact, she loved little children, of all ages. She just didn't think that she would be an adequate mother, especially not by herself. Her own mother had been harsh, cruel, even at the best of times, and Celeste had not known a mother's love until she had come to Hogwarts and met Eleanor Potter, and then joined the order, where there were plenty of mothers to go around. Nymphadora took care of her too, and she always felt incredibly grateful to those around her. But she never thought that she would be ready to _be _a mother - especially not now. Her best friend looked at her in shock for a moment, before wrapping her arms around her neck. Celeste returned the hug whole-heartedly, tears falling down her face. As Nymphadora pulled away a bit, brushing the hair out of Celeste's face, there was an obvious excitement in her voice as she whispered, "A baby." Celeste couldn't help it - she smiled, at the same time a choked sob escaped her.

"A baby girl," she corrected, having seen it in her vision. "A tiny little baby girl." She could tell that Nymphadora was much more excited than Celeste had predicted. Nymphadora had taken Romulus's betrayal well, considering that it had been her brother, but Celeste had still expected her to be a bit more... well, not excited.

"A girl?" she squealed. Nymph hugged her once more, and Celeste could not contain her grin. "Do you realize how much shopping there is to do?" While Nymph didn't believe herself to be good at much other than cooking and being cheerful, she loved shopping. She probably loved the idea of finding clothing for that little girl.

Biting her lip for a moment, another smile crossed her face unwillingly. "I am excited," she told her friend. "I am. It's just... with the whole Romulus thing..." Celeste looked away, Romulus's treason still hurt her heart, but every time she thought about it, she felt bad for Nymphadora. She felt as though it had been her fault. Biting her lip again, she held Nymphadora's hands for a moment. When Celeste mentioned her brother, Nymph waved it away.

"There's only enough room for one Lupin to spoil this child, thank you," she grinned, "And I would be very upset if I wasn't the Lupin to do it." Celeste felt a soft smile cross her face. The gratutiude she felt for her best friend could not be expressed in words. Just when Celeste had needed her the most, Nymphadora had pulled through.

"And you have nine months to help me think of a name." Well, her best friend knew. And Nymphadora didn't think she was some kind of slut or anything. She didn't think she was an idiot, not that she mentioned. Dora was exited for her - maybe this wouldn't be too bad. Her best friend wouldn't let her mess up too much as a mother. A baby girl. "What was that I heard about chicken soup?" Celeste asked, starting to put away the groceries for her.

"I got the ingredients to make it," Dora explained. "I was going to set the stock on the stove, let it heat up while I cut the vegetables." She rinsed off the veggies, and pulled out a cutting board. "You can start on the noodles, if you're up to it." The Seer began to do just that, smiling up at her friend. No, this wouldn't be so hard. Not when she had Dora by her side. Then, nothing would be impossible.

* * *

Her splitting headache was all that Celeste could think about. She often had headaches before an oncoming vision, and knew that she would most likely have one in the next two days. However, there was a nausea in her stomach that could only be explained by one thing. Her head was still ringing from the last Order meeting where Victor had given everyone the news about Romulus Lupin. It had been hard enough hearing it for the first time. For weeks, he had been depressed, angry, even violent. Especially since she had told him... At the moment, only a handful of people knew that she was with child. Teddy Lupin, of course, as she trusted him more than almost anyone else. Her best friend, Nymph. Romulus. And Victor. Everyone had been supportive - everyone except for Romulus. She wasn't angry with herself. No, even though she was nearly three months into the pregnancy, she knew that she would never hate herself for this. Or herself, or anyone because of it. However, Romulus running away... now that was another story entirely. She blamed herself partly - who wouldn't? - and as she sat in on the meeting where Victor announced it, Celeste could hardly hold back the tears. They had been together four years, he was her first real love, even if they had been falling apart for a long time.

Celeste now lived at Grimmauld place, away from the home that contained so many memories. She confined herself to the halls where someone would find her if she were to go into a trance, keeping close to others but making sure not to disturb them. This late, she expected only Victor to be still awake, as her own stomach pains kept her from sleeping. She was three months along now, and the back pains were killing her. Celeste's stomach was beginning to swell, too, and it wouldn't be but a few more weeks before she would no longer be able to hide it under baggy clothing. Before she had to face everyone with the truth. Her hand gently rubbed the soft skin below her naval as she entered what she thought would be an empty room, but when she noticed that there was an occupant she quickly removed her hand, covering herself up with her jacket. It was Genevieve Shire, one of the ex-Aurors that helped keep the Order running. Celeste was not a fighter, she could hardly duel - it was only with her gift of Sight that she was useful to the Order. Celeste put on a small smile. "Do you mind if I join you?" she asked. "There are noises upstairs and... well, I'd rather have some company right now."_ Because I'm a wreck, of course. _Her small attempt at a smile was only partly successful - Celeste had never been good at hiding things from people.

Tall and lean, Gene had a soft face but harsh brown eyes and hair. Celeste had seen her in many different ways, from the kind expressions when dealing with her niece and nephew, to the way her face showed the bitterness towards that which life has dealt her while dealing with others. Genevieve looked up at her, sipping her wine. "No, no," she said, "Of course." She even cleared some room so that Celeste could sit next to her. She felt incredibly thankful, after Romulus's words to her she was grateful for any small bit of kindness, not taking one word or action for granted.

"Thank you," she told her sincerely. She was working on something important for the Order, Celeste didn't have to have a vision to see that, though she didn't look at any of the papers too specifically. She didn't want to invade on her privacy. Celeste wasn't one for all of the planning, either. In her mind, she was pretty useless about ninety percent of the time, unless she had a vision. Except she did make pretty good biscuits, and always had tea for everyone. "You work so hard," Celeste observed, the wonder evident in her voice. "All of you do." Her headache began to pulsate against her temple for a moment, but after a little bit of rubbing it went away. Just a side effect, of course. Celeste had been having headaches since she was four years old - it was nothing new or a reason to be fussed over about. In fact for the Order it was a good sign, as it meant that a Vision was coming soon.

"I must confess, that staying absorbed in our work allows us to keep what little sanity we have left." After the older woman said it, it made perfect sense to Celeste. Only, she hadn't written an single article for the Daily since Romulus's disappearance. After news of that, the Prophet had given her a few weeks off to recuperate, but as each day went by she felt less and less muse to write. What good did writing for a damn paper do in the war, anyway? Told people that their cousins, teachers, students, mentors were dead? That wasn't something she wanted to write about.

When she put her hands down, she was surprised to see Genevieve take them into her own, like a mother would. This startled Celeste, who wasn't always used to such affection. Her own mother had never been too caring for the little things like that. Of course she didn't pull away or anything; it really was a wonderful feeling. Genevieve was a mother too, or at least a foster mother to her niece and nephew, and Celeste was honored that she was extending her motherly affection to her. "Now then. How are you, my dear?" she asked, and Celeste bit her lip.

"I..." she hesitated. "I'm holding up, of course," she said. "I mean I wasn't the only one hurt when," Celeste added, but stopped. She would know what the girl meant. Pausing for a moment, there was a hesitation in her eyes. Celeste wanted to tell her about her pregnancy. She would understand, wouldn't she? She wouldn't look at the nineteen year old girl as if she was a mistake, would she?

"Yes. But you were, perhaps, affected the most?" Gene asked of her. Letting out a small silent sigh, she met Gene's gaze. "Maybe," she halfway agreed. "I know Teddy's taking it hard though. I think it was just so unexpected. Like we were all so wrapped up in everything else that no one really saw the sign. I didn't even See it." She had Seen a lot of things coming, but not this one. Things didn't often take her by surprise, but somehow this one had slipped through the cracks.

"And how are you? And Avery and Synnthia?" Celeste asked her, holding her hands a bit tighter. These were her nephew and niece, twp kids that Celeste had the privilege of meeting. It was her understanding that they had gone through a very rough time recently with their biological mother. While being a Muggleborn did put her in great danger, it also meant that she was usually unaffected by deaths in the wizarding world as far as her family went. She still had friends, though, and had lost many in the Fall. However, when the conversation turned to Avery and Synnthia, she could see the turmoil in the woman's face. It was the same look in many others. Only three or so years older than them, Celeste knew the kids from Hogwarts, having even been in the same house as one of them. She'd seen them in Quidditch games, out in the Courtyard.

"They're fine, I suppose."

Celeste looked up at Gene, speaking with confidence as she said, "I know it might not mean a whole lot coming from me, but they're great kids. They've just been through a lot, but everything will work itself out in due time. I know it." And she did. Celeste always went with her instinct, no matter what it told her to do. People? People lied and could be misled, but not her gift. It had never been wrong yet. Pausing a moment, Celeste breathed a deep sigh, fighting off a wave of nausea. "Can... Can I tell you something?" she asked her, biting her lip. She waited for something in her mind to start screaming no, to tell her not to. But there was nothing. That must mean that it would be okay. "You must'nt judge me too harshly," Celeste pleaded.

"Naturally," she said, egging her to go on warmly. "It's not my place to judge you, Celeste, and I have no wish to. What ever you have to say is safe with me." Only a moment's hesitation did she wait, until she finally confided everything to the older woman.

"I'm pregnant," Celeste stated, though her eyes lacked the shame that had been in them when she'd told Victor. Everyone had assured her that there was nothing to be ashamed of. New life was a wonderful thing. But she was still worried... "Three and a half months, actually. I had just told Romulus when he... well, when he left." There it was. A small smile crossed her face for a moment. "I've even Seen her already." And she was beautiful. Tiny, frail, fragile... but beautiful. "I'm just scared to do it alone. I'm not going to be looking for a Dad to take care of her, and I don't think I could fall in love again - at least not anytime soon. It terrifies me. She terrifies me."

"I'm sure she'll be beautiful," Gene smiled. "And you have nothing to fear," she assured the girl. "She'll have us," she told her, and Celeste believed her. "The Order may not be the ideal place to raise a child, but I'm sure everyone would be happy to assist you in whatever you need." She meant it. The Order took care of their own. "I can't say that it won't be trying, but we are here for you, Celeste." The younger girl smiled warmly, fully for the first time in days.

But within a moment, everything in the room seemed to stop. Her hands grasped onto Gene's as her breathing became ragged. Her blonde hair fell into her face as she looked down and when her face rose, the whites of her eyes showed. She was no longer there, in mind or spirit.

_They who thought for light, is not._

_They who thought for dark, is not._

_Two souls in betrayal, never suspected until shown._

_Each will bring their own to demise._

Celeste opened her eyes from her vision to see Victor Hughes and the ancient Aurelia Lightwick watching over her, their faces lined with worry, before she blacked out.


	4. Chapter Four, Kainan

Name: _Kainan Ellwood_

Gender: _Male_

Age: _21_

Wand: _11", Apple, Demiguise hair & Hippogriff talon._

Occupation: _Study of Magical Beasts and Beings Professor _

_at Patronus Academy._

Most Personal Desires:

_1. To be seen as a man, not a werewolf._

_

* * *

_

Letting out a deep yawn, Kainan rose from his small bed. His shack was just outside of the castle, away from everyone else. He preferred it that way, and he figured that everyone else would, too. Rubbing his eyes, his knuckles were bruised and scabbed. It just so happened that two nights before had been a full moon, and his last transformation had been a little rough. He still had bags under his eyes. Kainan - er, that is, _Professor Ellwood_ - pulled on his shirt as he went along, tidying up his little room.

He was still finding it hard to believe that he was a professor. Most of the times he actually forgot, especially when he was away from the school. He was so used to being the undercover Order member, trying to get as much information from the werewolves and vampires as he could. Now his assignment was just as dangerous - teenagers. His Krup, Jack, lay at the foot of the bed, eying him as if to ask, _What the hell are you looking at? _Jack had personality, that was for sure. Wrapping himself up in his winter coat, Kainan rubbed his arms as he stepped out into the cold. It was winter now, and beginning to get chilly. His favorite kind of weather. Jack popped up, following him briskly. Even though he may have had the worst attitude, his dog was incredibly obedient when it came down to it. After all, Kainan was the Alpha. While the grounds of Patronus Academy were beautiful, they soon found themselves walking down the streets of Eternael. Maybe he might stop at the bookstore and say hello to Elisabeth Ryder, who was always glad for company, but her bookstore was closed for the day. That was odd... Maybe there was an Order meeting with just her, Victor, and Aurelia? That wasn't too unusual, but something didn't sit right with him about the bookstore being closed. Turning away, he was so distracted that he bumped into someone accidentally. A young woman. She looked at least eighteen, maybe she was one of the locals?

"Ah, sorry... 'bout that," she said, smiling apologetically. Always one to pick up small details, Kain noticed something was off about the way her face looked up at him, but he couldn't place it. She was certainly pretty, with dark brown hair and dark eyes, but everything about her screamed tomboy. She didn't wear anything low cut or revealing, or anything even mildly 'designer,' and he found that he liked her already.

That when he heard Jack bark. The silly creature had always liked girls over boys, which was odd considering he was 'owned' by one, though owned was really the proper word. Jack had found him when Kain was just a kid, and like most other animals he had been attracted to him. Most animals liked Kainan, especially horses. Horses took to him like knots to a log, and Kainan couldn't say that he didn't enjoy it. His love for animals was often understated, but it was a small advantage for a heavy disadvantage. He'd trade in his affinity for animals for a normal life any day, but for now he wasn't complaining, especially considering it had given him a job, a roof over his head, and a guaranteed meal every night. And Jack liked him, so he ought to be pretty grateful, eh? And he seemed to like this girl as well. He seemed to like her more than he had ever liked any other girl Kain met.

"Ah, this is Jack. Dont' worry, he won't bite, He actually seems to really like you. Wish I could say the same about m'self," Kain said, grinning lopsidedly as he scratched the back of his neck. "I'm Kainan, by the way," he introduced himself. But that was where he stopped. Being a werewolf, it was hard to 'make friends' when everyone was terrified of him. If she knew who he was, she would know what he was. After all, he was on the Werewolf Registry. If she wanted to befriend him, it would have to be on her terms, he had long ago realized. A grin was all he could give her as he watched Jack vie for her attention.

Kain watched Jack beg the poor girl for attention, but his eyes soon shifted. He couldn't help it - she was striking, and he was a man. He found her very attractive, but of course he would never act on these feelings. Kainan knew, like a dog that had been hit hard across the nose, what he was not allowed to do. He was not allowed to touch people, nor was he allowed to have any kind of manly feelings towards any woman. Not without their express permission. Sure he had dated several women, and even a few werewolves, but it was always so hard to keep them going with his position, and he was far too dedicated to the Order to be dedicated to any girl. But there was always something to be said about so-called 'dog people.' He noticed that the people who were friendliest and open with him were those considered to be dog people, as odd as it sounded. This girl, he could tell, was a dog person. Kain's grin remained for a moment as he watched Jack try to play with her, just as desperate for female attention as Kain was.

"Sawyer. Pleasure," she introduced herself. He shook her hand, listening as she added, "And how do you know he doesn't like you? He sticks by you, doesn't he? That must mean he's fond of you, at least on some level, even if he doesn't show it all the time." Kainan couldn't help it - for the first time all month, he let out a laugh. It was a little raw, but the light in his eyes was plain to see. He had never been very good at hiding his feelings anyhow.

"Maybe he likes me. I really think we're just two poor mutts with some things in common. Except, I'm pretty sure he gets more girls than I do," he said, obviously joking with her. The look she gave him, of course, made him smirk. She wasn't buying it at all.

"Two poor mutts, eh? And I find that hard to believe," she shot back, their gazes locking for a moment. Her eyes were dark, stunning. Inwardly, he winced. _Nice choice of wording, you dimwit._

His face became more serious for a moment as he added, "Most of the time I think he sticks by me for the same reason I stick by him. We don't really have anyone else," he explained, attempting a smile. Yet there was a sadness in his eyes for a moment as he locked gazes with the dog. He and Jack had a good sense of communication - people were awed at the things that Kain could tell him to do and he would be obeyed, but most others didn't wonder about what made their bond so special.

He looked back to the girl and was almost caught completely off guard by her bright smile. It was so much different than what he had seen when he had first bumped into her, but that was the kind of effect that Jack had on some girls. Like a magnet, he was. Too bad the girls payed more attention to Jack. "Do you live here? I don't think I've seen you around before..." she asked. Ah, so she was a local. Kainan leaned against a lamppost, Jack sniffing their feet and keeping a solid 'lookout.'

"Yeah, I'm new to the area, though I'm familiar with a few people. Just trying to get a lay of the land, I s'pose," he admitted, looking around Eternael.

Of course she was curious, so he shouldn't have been surprised when she asked, "What few people?" Kain grinned.

"Such as Elisabeth Ryder, she owns the bookstore over there, along with her fiance, Victor." Names she would recognize. Elisabeth was in every week's paper for charity work, and Victor was the understood leader of the Order. Maybe she came from a Muggle family, and didn't know much about this kind of thing. "Just a few people here and there." Okay, maybe he was showing off just a bit. Nothing got quite the amount of attention as it did when you told a girl you were a part of the Resistance.

"Victor Hughes?" she asked, and Kainan nodded.

"The one. Or at least I hope to Merlin there are only one of him," he said, grinning. He was kidding, of course. Victor had faith in him, more than most of the others did.

"Nice," she said, impressed. This gave him a bit of satisfaction, but that wasn't why he had joined the Order when he was seventeen. He had joined because of his taste for revenge, vengeance. What some people would call 'the wrong reasons' but they were all he really knew.

"It's a beautiful town," he stated. And then, because he couldn't help but get himself in trouble, he asked, "Would you mind taking a walk with me? Or, us really." Maybe he was attracted to her. What was the harm in that? _Oh, yeah, that's right_. _You're a werewolf, dumbass. _

Maybe it was a change of subject, but he really wanted to take a walk with this girl. She was turning out to be different from the girls he saw at PA, a refreshing burst of energy. Not to mention there was something about that he found intoxicating. At first he thought that she would turn him down, but the smile on her face gave her away. "Not at all, not at all," she replied, and a grin quickly washed over Kain's face. She shoved her hands into her pockets, and he could tell that she was freezing.

The first thing that popped into his mind, of course, was to offer her his jacket. It was the right thing to do, and it wasn't like he needed it anyway. Werewolves always ran at least five or six degrees hotter than everyone else - it was why they healed so quickly. Shrugging off his thick leather jacket, he held it out for her to take. "Here, you're freezing. I couldn't live with myself if I let you carry on like this. Take it, I don't need it anyway. I don't get cold," he said, a charming grin across his face. Jack barked at him, of course, like he always did when he knew Kain was trying to be smooth with a girl. She accepted it, though, and they continued on with their walk.

"Thanks..." she said to him, to which he shook his head. It wasn't a thing at all. However her smile quickly turned on him as she said, "And I just bet you don't." Another laugh escaped his throat, and he looked at her.

"Oh, don't worry. It's not me we have to be worried about," he shot back, allowing himself this small, playful banter. He was allowed to have a little bit of fun, wasn't he?

"So, Kain... what's your thing?" He froze instantly. Only his feet kept moving. After posing the question, she looked at him from the corners of her eyes, waiting curiously to see his reaction, as well as hear his answer if he understood her meaning.

"Uh," he said, his brows furrowing. My thing? "I, uh, my thing?" he asked, but soon reason hit him, and he broke out into a bark-like laughter. "Ah, I see. My thing? I'm good with animals," he told her, and then after a pause, "Not so great with people." Shoving his hands in his pockets, he walked on, looking straight ahead for a moment before looking back to her. Even though he had been very serious when he told her he wasn't so great with people, she burst into laughter. Okay, maybe he wasn't 'not so great' with her, but for some reason, she was proving to be the exception.

"Oh, good one. Very funny. But you seem to be doing fine with me, and you sound like you get along with Mr. Hughes and the gang, so I don't believe that, either."

Kainan only let out a short chuckle, shaking his head. "Yeah, well I don't meet many girls like you. And Jack likes you, so it's okay. In regards to 'the gang'," he said, pausing a moment, choosing his words carefully, "Well, I'm not exactly like the rest of them. Different, I guess you could say." _Yeah. And a freak_, Kainan added mentally.

"What do you mean?" she asked rather quickly, which - while it was a normal response - took his by surprise. His mouth opened for a second, and he was about to reply when she cut him off. "Nevermind, you don't have to answer that." At her words, Kainan quickly closed his mouth.

"Why? What's your thing?" he had asked her in return.

She obviously wasn't expecting the same question back, but she had an answer rather quickly. "Figuring people out. Well, either that, or Quidditch. Take your pick." Ah. Wonderful. That was just what he needed - someone figuring him out.

"I pick Quidditch," he told her, the left side of his mouth twisting into a half smile. She began to walk in front of him, going backward. It was all he could do to watch out for her and listen to what she was saying. Sawyer half-smiled back at him, something that he decided should be illegal.

"Oh? That couldn't possibly be because you don't want me to figure you out, now could it?" Before he could stop himself, Kain let out a laugh, giving Jack a fright. The mutt was following on his heels, right between the two as if he were their chaperon.

"Something like that. If you want to try to figure me out, feel free to. I get the feeling you won't be guessing," he said with a wink.

It wasn't a secret in the Order that he was a werewolf - in fact, it was something that Victor had always counted on. (Others, however, were not so excited about his 'condition.') He'd been doing undercover work with werewolf packs all across the nation since he was seventeen, and this was one of his first assignments that didn't involve his transformations. Now, of course, he took the Wolfsbane potion every month, just in case he should get out of his hut and come across another student. With the potion, his dementia was gone, and he was able to recognize others. A harmless werewolf. There were rumors that someone had created a cure for the bite, as long as it was taken within twenty-four hours of exposure, but that was no help to him at all. For now, he was reduced to hiding in the shadows, and the odd jobs that the Order could get him. Kainan wasn't going to lie to her. In fact, a part of him wanted to tell her, so that she would know what she was about to get herself into. It wasn't like it was a big secret or anything, he was registered and everything. But it still wasn't something he liked to tell people. But if they kept up this flirting, he'd have to tell her. He'd been with plenty of women who left him simply because he didn't tell them soon enough. Even if he never saw her again, which was entirely possible, he didn't want to run the risk of hurting her.

What's your... favorite thing to do, and why?" she asked him, as if it were some kind of game they were playing. Not that he minded, of course.

"What is this, twenty questions?" he couldn't help but ask, but his face clearly told her that he would answer anyway. For a moment, he paused. Just then, he noticed that the sidewalk behind her was about to end. As she stepped off of it backwards, he didn't have to look at the shock on her face to know that she was going down. His reflexes kicked in within a split second, and he had caught her faster than almost anyone could have possibly. His arms had gone around her, holding her torso up so that she wouldn't fall. Jack barked noisily.

"Being there for people. That's my favorite thing," he told her, their eyes locked.

Her reply was breathless, leaving him wanting to just hold her there. How long had it been since he had held someone? Ages, it felt like now. "You're good at it." Jack's bark seemed to snap her out of whatever she had been in, and he helped her back up into a standing position before things could get awkward.

"C'mon before you decapitate yourself," he said, turning the corner.

"Very funny," he heard her murmur.

"And what's your favorite thing to do?" he asked in return, not hiding the mirth behind his eyes. Only now, he let himself walk a little bit closer to her. Just in case she should fall again.

"Keeping people on their toes," was her terribly quick reply. Between her smirk and his own mirth, he couldn't help but grin his lopsided grin. "You know, if you wanted me to hold you, all you had to do was ask. I mean, you don't have to _literally _fall head over heels for me."

Sawyer's laughter rang in his ears, and he couldn't say he didn't enjoy the sound every time he heard it. "But asking would have been much too easy. Gotta spice things up somehow, right?" she replied quickly, raising those eyebrows at him. Her eyes sparkled with the conversation.

"You just have to make things hard on me, don't you?" Kain asked, nudging her with his elbow.

"My turn again." Uh oh. Kainan's pace slowed, and Jack began to wander off in search of some rats to chase. "How did you managed to catch me so fast? Do we just chalk it up to quick reflexes, or... is there something I'm missing here?" Well, it was a fair question. Kainan came to a stop, leaning against the next block's light pole, facing her. His hands went in his pockets once more, and he breathed deeply, searching for the right words. This was why talking to humans was so hard for him, there were too many words. With animals, most of it was silence.

Kainan looked away for a moment, but met her eyes squarely. "There's really no easy way to say this," he began, his voice quieter now. "So maybe it's best if I just... well, say it." One more pause. Why was this so damn hard? Was it because he actually liked this girl, and didn't want to see her try to find a way to get herself off the hook? For the excuses, the rejection?

"The thing that makes me different is that I," he finally said, "am a werewolf."

Kain knew that if she hadn't asked now, she would have asked him eventually. There was no hiding things like this unless you were serious about keeping it a secret. Kain had too much on the line to keep it to himself. His eyes watched her face carefully as he began to tell her. As the word came out, she seemed to be shocked, as if she hadn't been expecting it at all. Maybe she hadn't thought of it. Most people had never met a werewolf before they met him, only hearing stories about Fenrir and his terrible acts, seeing his picture in old Wanted posters.

"Well... that sure explains a lot," she said, and Kainan looked away, bracing himself. Taking a deep breath, he waited for her to say something along the lines of, _"Well, I really should get going now. It was good to meet you." _However, the next words out of her mouth took him by complete surprise. "And it's actually pretty cool." For a moment he could only stare at her, wondering if she was okay in the head. The only people who had ever been excited to learn that he was a werewolf were the scientists at the Conservatory, and other werewolves. And he would most definitely know if she was a werewolf.

"Cool?" he asked, his mouth opening to reply but nothing else would come out. Finally, the corners of his lips twisted up, and a laugh escaped him. "You're mental, you know that? Yeah?" he said, jokingly of course, but she just laughed. Kainan was going to get as many of those out of her as he possibly could.

"Yeah. I am." And of course, she agreed with him. He couldn't explain it, but a thousand butterflies had been set loose in his stomach, and he suddenly had a burst of energy.

"You're crazy. But it's okay. Because now I can tell you exactly what I think you are and there's nothing to stop me," he told her, taking a step closer. The smile on his face could not be contained. Kainan couldn't remember being just this happy in quite a long time.

"That was stopping you? Tsk, tsk," she scolded him playfully.

"Well of course it was bloody stopping me. You can't just go around telling girls everything and not have them know. Most of the time, it ends disastrously. It holds me back from a lot of things, girl," he said, wanting to add _but not anymore. _

"Is that so?" she shot back at him, bringing a laugh to his throat.

"Yes, actually," he confirmed, taking a small step closer to her.

Sawyer's smirk drove him crazy in the best way possible. "Well, speaking of telling everything, you don't look half bad, you know."

Half bad?" Kainan asked, raising an eyebrow as he tried to hold back his grin.

"Downright handsome, actually." So she thought he was attractive. And that his lyncropanthy was 'cool'. He'd certainly found a keeper, that was for sure. He was feeling high as a cloud, but his body was sent on alert when she took that last step forward. She smiled, and his heart leaped.

Yes, this girl must have put a spell on him. Because he was hooked.


	5. Chapter Five, Isis

_Isis._

_You are to come home for the short holiday this weekend._

_Signed,_

_Father._

Isis sighed at the briefness of her father's letter. She remembered how long he had held onto her on her first day at Hogwarts, just before she'd gotten onto the train. He held her hand so tightly she almost winced in pain, and the only reason Isis was able to actually get on the train was because her mother thought that he was showing too much emotion in public. She used to be the apple of his eye, his absolute favorite thing in the world, but ever since the Mistress took over the damn world that was all he cared about. Now he only cared about Isis for as much as she could do for him. And for the longest time, she tried her hardest to please him. She still did. Because sometimes she could still see her father in him, and then it seemed alright. But then he would become consumed by his work. The Ministry. The Mistress. And then Issy's mother wasn't so jealous of her daughter anymore. Then again, she still wasn't getting any attention, but it wasn't anyone's fault but her own. Elladora Dranzer was never the lucky one, though it would seem that her daughter was. Isis was blessed with the looks of a model, with the wit of any man. She proved not to be another spoiled brat who couldn't tell the barn side of a broad. Even the Mistress herself was interested in her, giving her assignments as if she were actually a part of her Dark Force.

The letter crumpling tight in her hand, Isis kept her eyes peeled for her Leonis, who she was once again on speaking terms with. That really only left Tabitha or Ren - _Ren_. The Raven outwardly winced at the thought of her once best friend. Ren Woodcraft. She had lost her brother at Hogwarts, something that most of the school blamed her for. (Though not without good reason.) And now one of her very best friends probably hated her. But she didn't have much time to mull it over before someone showed their face.

Anglin.

She'd successfully avoided him for the past few weeks, but she supposed that he was bound to crop up sometime. For once, Isis didn't even say a word to him. Her foul mood would only cause her to pull out her wand, and for once she really had nothing to say to him. She simply walked passed him, and when their shoulders brushed roughly, merely spat. "Move it."

Isis had been perfectly content with ignoring him and walking into the Great Hall without a single scratch on either of them. She was fine without taunting him, calling him a mud-blood, or making fun of his bimbo girlfriend who probably couldn't count to ten without taking off her socks and shoes. But apparently, Anglin wasn't.

"You know there's plenty of space in this damn hall, Frost." Of course she knew that. But that didn't mean she was going to purposely watch out for him. If he didn't want her to run into him then he shouldn't have been in the way. And no one stood in the way of Isis Frost. She still didn't say anything. The bastard caught up with her, took one look at her and said, "Oh, are you okay? Did your subscription of Bitch Weekly expire? Don't have any new insults to say? How sad." Once again, though she had a hundred comebacks ready in the back of her mind, she still refused to say anything. Isis knew what her father would say when he found out she'd been given another detention for her use of choice words against other students, but it was hard not to open her mouth and let him have it. Even his pretty face couldn't help her out of her bad mood. But enough was enough.

"So when is daddy Frost going to ask his precious child to find out how to get into PA?"

Isis froze in her tracks, Damon speeding off in front of her. That infamous temper of her's rose to its peak, and before she could think her wand was out, making a whipping motion in the air as she said, "Fuck you. _Verberio_." Out of her came a red beam of light, a whip combined with a stinging hex. She had aimed for his waist, but had off shot it slightly so that it would probably only catch his feet. That didn't matter to her right now. All she could think of was the red she was seeing, how everything was so quiet yet so loud. When she came to her sense and realized what she had done her face turned into an expression of complete shock.

She'd never cursed Anglin before. No matter how sensitive their bickering got, there was always a playful, sardonic hint behind it. Green eyes locked as she looked at him now, and the Raven nearly dropped her wand as she took a step back. Now her eyes filled with angry tears, just like the ones Avery had gotten out of her. _What the hell was wrong with her?_

Isis was good with a wand, and it was common knowledge that in order to defeat her you had to either be an incredibly dirty fighter or catch her by surprise. But it wasn't often that she was ever in duels. No one could ever get her temper to go off, no matter how hard they pressed. She always remained cool, calm, and collected, though she usually managed to make the other person's life hell for the rest of their stay at Hogwarts, or until they formally apologized to her. Some underestimated her, but it was times like this when she knew that there was nothing to underestimate. She was good with her wand, better sometimes than even she knew. As her curse reeled out, it struck him on the legs, wrapping around and yanking him to the floor. Isis watched as if from another person's eyes as he fell. It was the first time she had ever hexed him. Ever. People might think that he would be the first person she hexed with some of the things that they said to each other, but it had never gotten that far. Not until now. And he'd said worse things before than what he had today.

"What the fuck was that?" he asked, but Isis couldn't tell him. Her eyes were just wide and almost afraid, but the only thing she was afraid of was herself.

"I-I don't know," she admitted him honestly, using a tone she'd never used with him. One of sincerity.

"You hexed me," he said simply, and Isis took a big breath. Her wand hit the floor clattering noisily, but there was no way she could have held on to it with her trembling hands. _You're just like him, Isis. Just as crazy and fucked up as he is. _

"I-..." she began to say, but what was there to say? What words could she possibly string together to make this all go away. I'm sorry. No. She would not apologize. Ever. That would mean that she owed him something. That she had been wrong. But she _had _been wrong. This battle inside of her head went on, as her eyes darted from his leg to those eyes, back to his wand. And then they fell. The tears. They fell down her prominent cheekbones, and she could only stand there for a moment until she realized that Damon Anglin was watching her cry like a baby. Turning around, she went the other direction, running as fast and as hard as she could. She didn't even remember her wand until she collapsed on the floor of a desolate corridor, sobbing as the voices from all around her began to press against her. _You hexed me... Just like him. Just as crazy and fucked up as he is._

As she sat there, her back to the wall, Isis began what she called her 'weakness'. Doctors called it anxiety attacks, but it felt so much worse than that. At first it would start with crying, but the she would begin to hyperventilate until she nearly passed out. She was usually able to talk herself down inside of her mind, and she slowly managed to get back down to the sobs. These always hurt because her lungs were so tired. The whole process was not known to anyone - how could she ever publicize her biggest weakness? It was a sign that she was not strong enough. Imagine how that would look in the eyes of The Mistress? It would be her downfall. The attacks started over the break, just after she had killed the Headmaster. Her cousin Bella was so sure that it had been her own curse that had stuck first, but Isis had seen it through a penseive at least a hundred times, and each told her the same thing: _she had killed the Headmaster_. At first, she had denied it, but after seeing it over and over, watching as the jet of green light hit him in the chest... This knowledge alone was enough for her to go mad, and she didn't need the added pressure of everything else on top of that. Usually she was fine. The attacks only came whenever she was caught off guard. As long as she was in control, everything would be okay.

Between her sobs, she thought she heard a noise, but chalked it up for her imagination whens he didn't see anyone through her tear-blurred eyes. But then it came again, louder, clearer.

"Frost." Isis whipped her head around to see Anglin, holding her forgotten wand. Oh, bloody fucking wonderful. Isis shut up instantly, reducing herself to hiccups. "Here's your wand," he said, and she reached out a trembling hand to take it back from him. She was lucky he didn't keep it and use it for blackmail. His tone nearly killed her. He was trying to be _gentle _with her. It was the first time anyone had ever done such a thing. "Frost, what's going on?" he asked, and she shook her head.

"Can't you just call me a b-bitch and go on with whatever you were d-doing?" she asked him hopelessly, trying to retain a bit of her dignity. "Save your pity for someone you actually care about because I d-don't want it." She didn't know why she was pushing him away. Maybe because of who he was, or more specifically what he was. How could she let someone like him in? She knew that if she got close to Anglin it would spell disaster for everyone involved. Because she knew that he was just like her, but so different. She had no other option - didn't he see that? Didn't he see that she was a Pure-Blood and he wasn't? They were born to be enemies and that was exactly how they would stay.

Damon took a small, hesitant step towards her. "This has nothing to do with pity. I just want to know what's wrong, Frost. I... I've never seen you like this, and I'd like to gain some kind of normalcy. That won't happen if I just leave you alone without figuring any of this out. I'd put it to some kind of mental breakdown, but I know you're about as strong up there as anyone is at this school." _Wow_. It was the first compliment that he had ever given her that didn't relate to her body. It felt weird coming out, but Isis got the feeling that it was actually true.

Isis took another deep breath, running her hand through her long black hair. "It's nothing." It was all she said to him before she grabbed her wand, stood up, and with nothing more than a straightening of her skirt, she walked away.

* * *

Her father's letter still held tight in her fist, Isis left the Great Hall after dinner and spent a little time walking around. Once again, she had nothing to do. Perseus was busy with his overly clingy girlfriend, of course. Not to mention her cousin had been curiously absent lately, so Isis was quite bored. She began to head down to the Study Hall to finish her work, at first hoping to find Tabby. This, of course, got her thinking about Ren again. Her best friend. Could she still even call her that? Ren had lost someone very dear to her, even though Isis had remembered telling them both about getting out of the castle that weekend. What was her brother even doing there? Isis had warned everyone she had cared about... And now one of her very best friends probably hated her. Isis wasn't sure how she felt about this. She knew that she was supposed to be strong and not give a damn, but after spending six years as her dormmate and best friend, it was hard. Hard enough to bring the emotion into her throat like bile when Ren walked into the Study Hall with only two words for her.

"Good afternoon," Ren said quietly as she passed, a bare attempt at friendliness. Her long red hair was up in a bun, her blue eyes hardly even seeing Isis. Turning away from Isis in her chair, she pulled out a roll of parchment and a quill and then fumbled for a bottle of ink. But her hands were too shaky and the glass slipped and smashed into the table, spilling ink and tiny glass shards all over the girl's paper and lap. "Dammit!" she swore loudly, one hand flying to her pocket in search of her wand.

Isis sat there for a moment, her quill paused in her hand, before standing up defiantly. There was only a moment's hesitation before she moved over to where the girl had spilled her ink bottle. Issy's wand was out quickly, and she whispered a spell that repaired the inkwell, along with the ink inside. "Ren..." she said, trailing off and biting her lip. What did you say in a time like this? "I... I just wanted to," she started, looking away for a moment, "I wanted to talk to you." Isis, proud, beautiful Isis, was showing _remorse_. There really was a first for everything.

Rising stiffly from her desk to put herself on the same level as Isis, Ren said to her, quite blankly, "Then talk. I assure you _I _have nothing to say." The thorns dug into her insides. Ren. Her most trusted friend. And here she was, servant to her brother's murderer, for all the other girl knew. She couldn't afford to trust her again. But Isis knew that she wouldn't just walk away. Despite the hardness in her expression, there was a soft pleading there, just barely existent in the tiny quiver of her lip. Ren's fists balled at her sides.

"I..." Isis began hesitantly. This was almost too much for her. Their friendship had never called for an apology before. Didn't Ren understand how hard it was for her to say she was sorry? It wasn't like _she_ had personally killed Rhodri. "I suppose I'll see you later then," Isis finally said, her voice hardly above a whisper. Ren's blue eyes looked away, something that Isis recognized as an attempt not to cry. She knew the feeling. Six years of friendship was slipping away, and she was as powerless to stop it as she was to catch fog.

Moving down the wide corridors, Isis held her wand in front of her - not that she was planning on using it. At least, not at the moment. Her wand was rare - an heirloom from her great something or the other. There was something incredibly unique about her wand in the fact that it contained a whole Chimaera scale. Only one Chimaera had been slain in the past century, making her wand a priceless item. It was fused with a dragon heartstring from a Peruvian Vipertooth. Oh yes, she'd been drilled on her wand's history since the day she had first gotten it - Isis knew it backwards and forwards. In fact, her parents had spent quite a considerable amount of their time teaching her near useless chunks of information - such as who in the Wizarding World had married who, which kids were born first, who's married their second cousin. She knew all of the names, the facts, the details. She, however, had never been taught to cook, and relied solely on others for her food, simply because there would always be someone to prepare her a meal. She had never washed a single dish, nor had she ever touched a broom - for cleaning or for riding. She would rather ride a horse, like a good pureblood. Though she would rather them not be winged. Isis's bright green eyes studied her wand, checking for any imperfections. But it was always as pristine as ever, not a single scratch, as if she'd just gotten it out of the box brand new.

Isis was pretending to do her rounds for Prefect duty, but instead she was merely wandering the halls. If she saw a Raven she knew and liked, she'd ignore the fact that it was after curfew, but anyone else would get points taken off. Walking down a particularly dark passage, she was suddenly aware of a small sound behind her. Whipping her head around, she drew her wand into an offensive position, her heart beating wildly in her chest. Damn! If she wasn't already paranoid enough, she was now! Isis narrowed her eyes dangerously, peering into the darkness. "Whoever you are, you have three seconds to show your face before I start firing off curses. _Three_," she started, her tone commanding like the girl of status that she was. There was no one in the school, in the students at least, that was 'above' her. Even students that were older had a reason to respect her name - especially those in Raven house, her former Slytherins. Frost was a name of power now, a name that no one could forget. She wasn't just the Minister's daughter. She was a daughter of the Dark Force, Edmund Frost's child. Lowering her wand only to see the person's face, she continued to glare until she saw who exactly it was...


	6. Chapter Six, Richard

Even though he had a great group of friends, Richard found himself avoiding them at all cost. The Twins, Reagan, or 'Rae', and Reggie, were always together, and had actually cornered him once to find out what he'd been up to, and he'd quickly made up an excuse about being busy with homework. The red-haired tom boys were pretty scary when provoked, especially Reagan. She was infamous for sneaking into your dorm and shaving off your left eyebrow when you didn't show up to the 'group gatherins'. Reggie was pretty level-headed compared to her, but she was still no princess. Richard, however, had grown up with the pair of twigs for girls, his father having been in the Order for so long as well as so close to the Potters and Weasleys. The twins were only a year younger than him, Fourth Years this year, so he'd had plenty of company while his father had been in meetings and at work. In Quidditch, they played a pair of killer Beaters.

Damon Anglin was his best mate, and being the only two males in the group they had bonded. A Muggle-born, he was sometimes a bit excluded because he hadn't 'grown up in the Order,' but he fit right in anyway. He was the brain of the group, for the most part, and who everyone went to when they needed help in DADA. Damon played Chaser.

And then, of course, there was Parker Williams. A Sixth Year, she was a year ahead of Richard, but out of everyone he was closest to her. She was the group's mother, the voice or reason, and the one who reminded them where their morals were or if they were going over the line. The Twins called her a 'Party Pooper,' but she had probably saved them from being expelled numerous times. Long brown hair, deep green eyes, a Quidditch fanatic, Richard had fallen in love with her nearly the day he laid eyes on her but she only ever saw him as a little brother. It was probably this that sent him into his 'dating spree,' where he made out with nearly all of the girls within two years of him in any house. He was renowned for dating a new girl every few weeks, and Parker was there for him no matter who he brought out. No matter how many times he drank himself to the point where he could no longer stand.

Sawyer Ashbury was the oldest, though she wasn't exactly the most responsible. She'd be Quidditch Captain this year, and today was an important day for the Lion Quidditch Team: try-outs. Training for Quidditch was one of the only way to get his mind off of everything these days. Of course, it also meant seeing Sawyer and talking to her, but she was the only other person in the group to have lost someone, and that made things a bit better.

Looking around, Richard let out a sigh. There were hardly enough kids to fill up a team, let alone make things interesting. Four people were trying out for Chaser, one for Keeper, a couple for Beaters, and of course there were two hopefuls trying out for Seeker. Wesley Potter was one of them. He was every bully's perfect target: unruly black hair, glasses, and his nose shoved into a book every time he wasn't on the pitch. Richard personally looked after him as much as he could - they were the same year, but up until Patronus Acadey they had never been in the same house. Wesley was a Ravenclaw who had been sorted into Lion house. Richard and Wes had sort of grown up together as well, and they had been there when each of them had learned that their father had been killed. Then again, they were four when James Potter died, but it had still been hard to her. And if his nerdiness weren't enough to attract the bullies, the fact that his mom was a professor didn't help. She was the Quidditch Professor, but everyone always said she'd be better off teaching DADA. A retired Auror, she'd come to Hogwarts to teach after her husband had died. Wesley had lost his brother in the Hogwarts attacks as well.

The other person was Avery Cromwell, same year as well. Another Order kid. Personally, Richard was going for Wesley - Wes was wicked fast, and deadly silent, while Avery was always so loud about when he caught the Snitch. Since Sawyer was the Captain, she was guaranteed a Chaser spot. That meant that after Richard, who was too tall and skinny to be a Beater but not quick enough to be a Seeker, there was only one spot left. Richard, however, did have one thing going for him: he never missed a shot. He hadn't missed a single shot since his third year, other than any time that a foul was called. He was fairly certain he'd get that second spot, but he still worked his hardest to prove to the others he wasn't getting by on good looks.

In the end, the team had been narrowed down to him, Sawyer, and a girl name Isabella for Chasers, while two fourth year boys took the Beater spots. Avery made the team - but as their Keeper, and Wes was hailed as their Seeker. He stayed after with Sawyer to mess around for a little bit and to catch the Bludgers, but Sawyer soon left, making an excuse about going to Eternael - PA's version of Hogsmeade, only less cheerful. He didn't leave, however, but stayed and worked out some.

After his laps, he lay in the pressbox, hidden behind a wall, letting something similar to sleep overtake him. It was a daydream like state, though he was vaguely aware of his surroundings. When a few blokes made their way onto the Pitch, Richard did his best to stay silent. He didn't feel up to wearing that mask of his, and pretend that everything was okay when it really wasn't. Half of his family was gone. Forever. How he continued to put up a front and pretend that he was fine was beyond him sometimes. But the one of the voices reached up to him. "Hey, have you seen Parker anywhere?" It could only be Reggie, he'd know hat voice anywhere.

"No. I haven't. But you know how it is around this school. Only now have we met up and everything. I'm sure she's around here somewhere." The second voice was also unmistakable. Damon. Richard thought about this for a few moments during their pause. It was Damon and Reggie, someone of the people who had had his back for years, and here he was, hiding from them. How could he tell them about his family? He couldn't take the looks of pity, but then again he couldn't deal with them not caring. "Hey, er... have you heard from Richard any? He didn't reply to any of the owls I sent him since the attack." There it was. So maybe they did care. It was as if the man upstairs was sending him a message. Of course, he would eventually have to go down and say hey. He hadn't seen either of them since the attack, though he had known they were both alive. Damon's owls had been numerous, but he hadn't even been able to bring himself to open them, and he would have most definitely read about it in the paper if a Weasley had been killed. The press had already had a field day with William Potter, Wes's younger brother.

Grabbing his broom, he leapt off and zoomed around and back up to them, the most convincing grin he could on his face. Just as he neared, Damon passed the Quaffle back and like the trained Chaser he was, snatched it from him. "He's right here you prat," Richard said as he turned his broom sharply. As he neared, he found it easier and easier to pretend. Maybe one day he wouldn't have to pretend at all. "And was that your bloody owl? We thought he was a stray," he added in a teasing manner. "I can't believe you two were gonna scrimmage without me. Really, I'm hurt." Though both of them would know he was kidding, would they know why? Would they understand that he was trying his hardest to pretend as if nothing was wrong?

Richard's tone was light and casual as he spoke, though there were times he was afraid that his eyes would tell him the truth. Damon was especially good at reading eyes, so he knew that it was only a matter of time until they saw it. The zombie look that most students had, or at least the ones who had lost them. The look of grief. "You dick. You bloody well know what my owl looks like," Damon replied, causing Richard to let out a hollow laugh.

"What? You have an owl, mate? Bloody. Didn't know." But it was true - Richard had ignored Damon's owl on purpose. He hadn't even let himself open the letters.

"I guess the stray didn't deliver that message did he?" Reggie asked, causing Damon to glare.

"You two are right bastards, you know that?" Damon asked, and Richard's stomach knotted as he was painfully reminded of his father.

"Oh shove off," he told him, attempting to keep up his little charade. If only he could keep it up for a little bit longer, maybe it would start to get easier and easier...

"What a lovely entrance by the way, mate. Were you just waiting until we mentioned you?" Reggie asked. Richard quirked a brow playfully.

"You two were talking about me? I mean, I know I'm devilishly good looking, but I'm reserved for ladies only," he said, and sent a grin at them. "Sorry boys." Reggie didn't take the fact that he was calling her a boy bad at all. She was just as tough as any of them, and didn't care too much for the opposite sex unless it had to do with Quidditch.

"So where's your flavor of the week?" Damon asked curiously, and Richard laughed. He was about to reply with something snarky and very inappropriate when Reggie opened her mouth.

"Please. Playboy's dated just about every decent molly around, aside from the sick and twisted ones anyways... and even then you've dangled that fine white line, my friend."

"Hey!" he replied, almost defensively. He might have tried to deny it - if it wasn't true. "You're just jealous I get to them all before you do. But I was thinking about having my way with Frost - any tips, Damon?" he asked for the sole purpose of picking on him. "And believe it or not, Pretty Boy Wonder is actually single." Richard sent a wink they boy's way. Somewhere in the pit of his stomach he knew that there was something off about Isis Frost - not off like the rest of those twisted sickos were, but a different kind. He didn't know what it was yet, but he was determined to find out.

Damon flew a bit closer. "I'd be careful, I wouldn't want my dick to fall off," he advised the Lion.

"Yeah? Oh bugger, I heard she got you, mate. But really, it'll be okay. There's support groups and everything for that kinda thing. Hey, do you want me to say a word for our fallen comrade?" he asked, almost somberly.

"Just make a list so we can keep track of the names," Reggie added, causing Richard to grin widely.

"He's gonna need a lotta parchment."

"Yeah, because I don't want to be around any of those girls after you've had a turn, playboy." Richard just shook his head at this jab.

"Well I s'pose if you didn't spend all your time wanking off over Frost then maybe you'd catch one, wouldn't you Damon?" he asked, his eyes lighting up almost convincingly. Good one. He knew he might even get a punch for this so he dodged, moving towards Reggie a bit.

"So, how about a bit of one on one on one?" he asked, ready to start playing and stop chatting in case one of them decided to bring up Patrick.

"Bring it Pretty Boy Wonder."

"They don't say 'Wonder' for nothin', mate." So Reggie was ready, and Richard was ready. That just left Damon.

"You two just better be ready to lose. I practiced my scoring all summer. Set up some muggle hoops back at home and had my way with 'em. First to five?" Richard laughed, but knew that in the end it would be either Reggie or Damon to win. He hadn't practiced all summer, giving both of them the upper hand. But Richard still had the Quaffle.

"You betcha, mate." A grin on his face, he tore off towards the goal posts, not even having to look behind him to see that both boys were hot on his trail. As he passed it, Richard made an attempt on the goal, and hopefully neither of his mates blocked it. Since they would both beat him, it would be nice to have called the first shot.

* * *

Here it was: Opening Night at the Theatre Donnohan. Richard Donnohan, playing himself as a normal teenage boy. Pretending as if his father had been on speaking terms with him before he was killed in the last raid. Pretending as if the loss of his brother wasn't consuming him. Pretending as if he still had a mother that cared about him. His whole family hadn't been taken from him, but it sure did feel like it. Taking a deep sigh, he entered the pub. The Frisky Mermaid, a place he had been to more times than the others knew about. Slipping inside, Richard began to build up the walls. Reagan wouldn't notice if something was wrong, but the others were not as oblivious. Parker and Damon knew him too well, and Reggie wasn't an idiot. While he had seen the twins around school, and had played Quidditch with Damon not too long ago, he hadn't really seen Parker since the attack, and had been looking for her head brown hair at what Rae had designated as "their table." She wasn't there, at least not yet. She had written him, telling him not to worry that she'd be there soon and how sorry she was for him and was there anything she could do? He had gotten a lot of letters like that over the break, none of them had gotten a reply. Not even Parker's.

A grin slipped onto his face, half forced, as he greeted the group. "I decided it wasn't worth Lefty again. And by the way, Rae... 'Mermaid' only has one 'e'. 'Frisky' doesn't have one at all. I really think you're the worst speller I've met in my life," he said, getting the attention away from himself as soon as he could. Of course, this earned him a good punch on the shoulder.

"Whatever, mate," she said dismissively. "I'm a great speller!" Rae tried to defend herself, but it was no use. Everyone knew that she couldn't spell to save her life. It never really had been that important to her - not as important as mud pies or flying.

Reggie just nodded and snorted and rolled her eyes at the conversation between Richard and Rae about spelling, though she did mutter, "Well, pretty boy 'as got a brain after all."

He bumped into her as he took his seat, sliding past Damon. He avoided looking at the only other male in the group, preferring to keep eye contact with Jo, Rae, or the table. They were the only ones who wouldn't call him out, ask him if he was okay. He didn't know how many more times he could say that he was fine and say it convincingly. "If you don't mind, could you bring me one too, Jo? You're a doll, you know that?" he said, winking at her. Josie, the bar maid, would flirt with him, but the second he laid a hand on her Jo would be all over him and he would definitely regret it. No one messed with Jo. Not even Pretty Boy. His hair was styled perfectly, as always, and he wore Muggle clothes - some designer shirt and dark jeans, as well as his favorite leather jacket. It had been his brother's, and it was kind of infamous. Now that it fit his broadening shoulders, he saw no reason why he shouldn't still wear it, along with the leather string around his neck, tucked into his shirt and out of sight. Little reminders so that he would never forget. Not that he ever could.

"Well, if it isn't the Rat Pack themselves." Sawyer. She was the one who had nicknamed them that back in his third year.

"You mean 'brat'," Reggie corrected fro her seat next to her identical twin Reagan.

"Anyone heard from Parker yet?" Sawyer asked, looking around, but just then the 'mum' of the group showed up.

"Hey guys. What a sheer surprise to see you all here. An odd coincidence, isn't it?" Parker. Richard's stomach instantly twisted, like it always did when she caught him by surprise. Slipping her warm hands under his jacker, she wrapped her arms around him in a hug, kissing his cheek. Richard slung his arm around her shoulder, pulling her a bit closer for a second.

"Yeah, not as anyone invited us all or naught," Reggie bit off dryly.

But Parker hadn't heard. She just looked up at him, and he worried for a moment that everyone else would do the same. "Why has it taken the threat of shaved eyebrows for me to see you?" she asked, almost as if she were hurt. His arm was still around her shoulders, and he hand remained under his jacket. "I don't know, Parker. It's a big school, I guess," he said. It was a cop out, and they both knew it. But just then Josie arrived with their drinks. Rae and Sawyer had Firewhiskies, while everyone else except for Parker had a butterbeer. He looked away, taking a long sip of his Butterbeer.

"Parker!" Rae shouted, a grin forming on her silly face. "You're lucky. I was about ten seconds from shaving off lefty. Y'know, I think it'd actually look good on you. No doubt bring all the boys 'round," she said, missing the interaction between Parker and Richard completely. Everyone knew that they were kind of like a pair. You didn't mess with one without the other jumping in to defend them. Of course, nothing beat out the Twins, but they came close. Richard found himself zoning out for a moment, his eyes meeting Parker's. His stomach dropped again. How come she always manage to see right through him?

Damon laughed loudly. "Yes, all the boys. The one eyebrow thing really gets me going," He drawled out in an overexaggerated tone. Winking, he chuckled again. The general mood of the table was lightening. Everyone was back together for the first time since... Richard's mind steered away from the thought as quickly as he could. "So, since the band's all together again... what's on the agenda? I vote for drinking games," as Damon said this, he smirked. Those were his favorite. Whether they were muggle or wizard ones, there was nothing like a good wizard game to make drinking even better for him.

A little sinister smirk stretched Reggie's lips and she settled into the booth, holding the butterbeer out in front of her. Rae was the drinker of the pair, but that didn't mean Reggie couldn't keep up. "Well," she said, a little playful challenge in her voice, "best be getin' us somethin' stronger then. 'Ey Richie, maybe you should stick ta butterbeer. I'm not about ta carry your arse home."

"No," Parker said, not without a grin. "That's my job." While she had taken care of him almost every time he'd gotten drunk in the past two years, Richard didn't consider it her 'job.' She grinned up at him, obviously meaning it as a joke.

"Looks like it'll be a good night." Rae nodded in agreement to something that Damon had said, sipping her butterbeer. "Methinks you lot will be up there dancing afore midnight," she told them all. This meant that it would be a busy night for Jo and the others who helped her run the bar.

"Iono, sis. PA's a right ghost town. I 'aven't set an eye on 'ardly a familiar face since I got 'ere," her twin chimed in. Reagan just shrugged at her words.

"Dunno, sis. Buncha kids don't wanna come to a new school. Buncha mummys are too worried about their tykes. But not us, eh?" Rae replied, nudging her sister. "Buncha twits ya ask me. Cowards they are, abandonin' the school like that." And that was her declaration, made with another stolen swig of butterbeer and a sharp click of her tongue. Reggie had a way of speaking that suggested whatever she said was law, and her mind was about as easily swayed as a boulder. She also wasn't an idle talker like her sister, not seeing the point of commenting on every solitary thought that might pop into her head.

Richard, however, was beggining to feel the walls closing in on him. Only Parker seemed to notice, looking up at him odd. "'Scuse me," he said to them, "need to make a break for the loo." Parker moved out of the way for him, but when Richard exited their overcrowded booth, there was only one place he had in mind - and it wasn't the restroom. Pushing past the gathering crowd, he made his way past the flashing lights and out the back door. It swung shut behind him, and he breathed deeply the night air, filling his lungs as though they might burst. He ran a shaking hand through his hair, trying to compose himself. He couldn't go back in there. He couldn't pretend anymore, not tonight, at least.

The door opened again, and he turned to see Parker's concerned face looking up at him. She quickly moved over, wrapping her arms around his neck. "Richard, I'm so sorry. I've been so worried about you, after you didn't write back, you had no idea how worried I was," she said softly in his ear. Richard let out a sigh, wrapping his arms around her to return the hug.

"I'm fine," he told her, even though the words themselves made his stomach churn. She looked up at him with those eyes of hers, the way he thought she be illegal. It gave him crazy thoughts, made him want to kiss her, or something of that nature. But Parker was off limits, the only girl who was. He pulled away from her crushing embrace. Richard knew that she was only trying to help, but he couldn't handle help right now - at least, not without breaking down. "Tell the others that I forgot something in my dorm," Richard told her, shoving his hands in his pockets as he began to move away. He'd make up another excuse for why he didn't come back.

"_Richard_."

He stopped in his tracks, turning his head as if he were going to talk to her over his shoulder. "I don't want to talk, Parker. There's nothing to talk about, least of all to you." He knew that he would regret this later, but it was the only thing he could say to get her to leave him alone. Parker would follow him all the way up to the castle if he didn't stop her. A part of him thought that if he told her about his brother, every single thing he had ever felt for her would come tumbling out as well, and that was just too much to handle.


	7. Chapter Seven, Celeste

"What the hell are we going to do about all of the Dementors swarming around London?" came the voice of Rowan Hallow. He used to be Celeste's Potions professor, but now he was just another Order member. Looking around, Celeste couldn't remember seeing this many people in an Order meeting since, well, _ever_. She was sitting between Teddy Lupin and Nymphadora, the pain in her back slowly bringing her more and more discomfort every second. Yet even though the room was so full, it felt so empty without the faces of Hermione Weasley and Lily Potter. Their most recent loss was William Donnohan, and she knew that was a hard loss for everyone. He was Victor's best friend, his second in command, and no doubt the best fighter in the entire group. She could easily picture him as one of those infamous Muggle Generals, leading his troops to victory. Everyone felt his absence. Even Jocelyn Fairchild, the mad scientist, and her cousin Kainan had showed up, though he did look rather uncomfortable.

"What are we supposed to do, Rowan?" Eleanor Potter. Her voice was weary, and Celeste could see why. She'd been through about as much as anyone and still put all of her effort into the Order, not to mention being a Professor as well. "I know we're supposed to be protecting people, but they haven't Kissed a Muggle yet - and they can't even see them," she began, but Victor interrupted.

"She's right. We have more important things to worry about. There have been multiple wards added to the barrier around Hogwarts, but Genevieve and I have found a hole in their defenses." Celeste's eyes moved from Victor to Gene, her brow furrowed. it seemed awfully soon to be planning another raid. Thankfully, she wasn't the only one who shared this opinion.

"I thought we agreed that we shouldn't try any more raids until summer?" Eleanor asked, her eyes full of worry. "After losing William we would have no chance. We have no idea how many we would be up against. We'd be going in blind - and deaf." There was a general murmur from the round table, a few people nodded.

Elisabeth Ryder spoke up then, her voice quite, making everyone lean in to listen. "Maybe that's a risk we're willing to take. The wizarding world has no hope right now, imagine what it would do to morale if we rescued just a few children. Don't you want your son back, Eleanor?" Everyone in the room stopped. A silence fell over them, and Eleanor simply looked at her, her face blank. Celeste couldn't help but think that was completely uncalled for.

"_We don't even know if there are any students left_." Eleanor's words chilled her to the bone. "You have no idea how badly I want my son back," she said, and Celeste was surprised that her voice didn't crack. "But we can't lead a raid that would cause us to lose more people. We can't lose anyone else, and we will if we have another raid."

Celeste breathed a deep sigh. There was something wrong about this whole situation, she just couldn't explain what - and her intuition had never been wrong. Something just wasn't right. Teddy rested his hand on hers for a moment, as if to say, _It's okay._ Next to her, Nymphadora looked about as uncomfortable as Celeste felt.

Finally, Teddy spoke up. "It won't matter either way now that Edmund Frost has been elected Minister for Magic," he said, his eyes narrow. "Aurelia has said that he plans to 'investigate' Patronus Academy. If he finds one thing wrong, he could try to have it shut down. Not to mention the fact that we only have a few ears inside the Ministry left. And, no offense to Jocelyn, but when they start the Muggleborn discriminations, she'll be the first to go, no matter how much work she's done in the Department of Mysteries." He stood up, addressing them all. "We can't do anything on a large scale right now - that we can all agree upon. It's the small steps we need now. Follow Elisabeth's example - we've seen what she had do with the media. Small steps will lead to larger ones. We cannot move offensively until we are protected. Eleanor may want her son back, but she still has another she needs to protect." He sat down, and Celeste returned his hand squeeze. People began to talk among themselves, all the while she thought about her prophecy. Her vision had not shown her a face of the 'spy' in their group, but she couldn't help but think that maybe if she only _saw_ the person, maybe she would recoginise them as the traitor. She had no fancy words to sway the Order with, and she was not a fighter: her Sight was the only use she had. _They who thought for light, is not._

She scanned the faces of all of the Order members present, and nothing stuck out at her. She wanted so badly to be able to help. Celeste would really do anything. Sometimes Celeste wished that she could force her visions and prophecies to come as she wished, because she would wish for one right now - she needed something, anything to tell her that this was going to be okay. When she was a little girl, her parents had thought her crazy, and she had the feeling that if she hadn't gotten her Hogwarts letter her parents would have committed her to an insane asylum by the time she was sixteen - especially when she started going into trances. It perplexed even her what caused them - sometimes a simple word could send her into a seizure-like trance, other times her eyes simply rolled into the back of her head and she saw vision, foggy visions without real faces or places. She hadn't been able to tell Aurelia who the spies were in her last visions, even though she had seen them. Maybe if she saw them up close and looked, but even then she couldn't be completely sure. The only vision she had seen regarding her baby...

Another headache began to work it's way into her head, but she didn't know if it was from her pregnancy or from another vision coming on. Whatever it was, it hit her suddenly, and grew. The chatter around her filled her ears, until she could hardly open her eyes with the pain. "Agh," she sighed, clutching her hands to her head. Immediately, Dora and Teddy turned to her, making sure she was okay. After a few moments, the headache lessened slightly, and she winced up at them. "Just a headache, I'm fine," she explained. Looking up, she saw that plenty of other people were looking at her too, almost expectantly. She breathed another silent sigh, avoiding their eyes.

The rest of the Order meeting went along more smoothly, as they talked about peole they'd captured, hiding places they'd discovered, informants that had come to them with information. It was when the conversation turned to Romulus did she truly pay attention.

"We've had word from Romulus," Teddy announced. She could feel the eyes burning a hold into her skull, especially from Alex Fanthom, a friend from school. Dora held her hand under the table. "He has been accepted by The Mistress. He writes that she had 'big plans' for him. As we all know my son has turned on us and given himself up to the Dark Force. What he plans to do, I have no idea. But if we come across him in any battle, I do no ask you not to harm him. I ask you to treat him as if you would treat any other Dark Force member. He's not one of us anymore. He's abandoned his family in more ways than one." This must have been so hard for Teddy. Celeste felt tears brim her eyes, and let her long blonde hair cover her face. "I'm afraid he is no longer the Romulus we once knew and loved." He resumed his seat, and Victoire hiccuped beside him, leaning into his shoulder.

Once the Order meeting was over, Celeste found that she could not just stay and socialize like everyone else. She ran away, like the coward she was running up the stairs two at a time. Slipping into one of the empty bedrooms, the tears began to fall. At first she had it contained to simple tears, but then sobs began to rack her body. She tried to hold a pillow over her mouth to stifle them, but it would appear that someone had heard her anyway. The door creaked open, and she his her face behind her blonde hair. She had known it would be him - intuition.

"Celeste." She didn't move for a moment, until he came to sit down by her. Gently, she let her pillow drop to the floor, and wrapped her arms around the boy next to her. He was the same age as Romulus, and while she had known of him in school, they had never really gotten close until she joined the Order. There, they had been given plenty of assignments together. She found him easy to talk to, a great friend. And now, she needed him for what seemed like more than ever.

"I hardly know what to do with myself," she admitted to him, once her sobs had died down a bit. "Alex... Can you believe it? He's always been so rebellious, but I never imagined..." I never imagined he would go this far, she thought to herself. She couldn't help it - Celeste just needed to be held. With the hormones raging inside her, it made it hard not to break out into tears every few minutes, though she wasn't normally one to cry.

Alex wrapped his arms around her in comfort, and she did feel a bit better. "I hardly talked to him during Hogwarts, even if he was in my year. When I started talking to him in the order, I knew at times he rebel at something or against something, But I never thought he would rebel against the order and join the dark forces. I will admit it is hard to believe he would even do such a thing. It hurt all of us to know one of our kind would do such a thing. Time will pass and things will become better and change for the better." She listened to the sound of his voice, but it only made her feel a little bit better. "Trust me when I say this, as time goes on, things will change for the better for you and you may even find someone to be in love with." Celeste's tears had dried by now, and she carefully extracted herself from Alex. Didn't he understand? She didn't want to be in love. Shaking her head, she wiped the tears off of her cheeks. She didn't want to hear these words. They had just been told about Romulus's treason, and he was already talking about falling in love again? It was all too much for her. She was already overloaded enough as it was, and she couldn't stand the ideas that this was putting in her head. What was she supposed to do, just fall head over heels for Alex just because he happened to be there while she cried? That didn't feel right. This whole conversation didn't feel right.

"I don't think so, Alex," she told him, picking up her pillow and setting it back on the bed. She didn't know how Eleanor Potter would feel about people crying all over her pillows, and wasn't about to just mess up a room.

But apparently she'd been taking him all wrong. "Celeste, I wasn't saying you were going to fall in love again or anything. Just from what I know, for some people finding someone else to love helps them forget... Then again, there are others who won't fall in love either. Not saying you won't, it's just... All I am trying to say, you will find comfort whether it's through love or not. I really do hope you'll find comfort sooner or later." Great. Now she was moody _and_ a bitch. Wonderful.

"I just... I need some time." Should she tell him? Could she trust him with the news that she was carrying a child, that in eight months there would be a little version of her and Romulus running around? She bit her lip, her eyes full of worry. How on earth was she going to do this?

"It would take a lot of time to get though what you are going though. No one is pushing you though this, Celeste. No one will either. You have to deal with this in your way and time." His words echoed in her mind, and she couldn't help but think about how right he was. Leaning her head on his shoulder, she took a deep breath.

"Thank you, James."

* * *

Yikes, I know it's short. It's half of my usual length, but the rest will be like normal. :) Promise.


	8. Chapter Eight, Kainan

_Study of Magical Beasts and Beings Class_

_9:30am, sunny with a few clouds._

"Bloody-" Kain swore as he fumbled into his trousers. He was late. For his own damn lesson. Wonderful. It just so happened that two nights before had been a full moon, and we all knew what that bloody well meant. He still had bags under his eyes - it had been a rough transformation. Lightwick really must have some kind of faith in him; was she off her rocker? Most great ones were, and Aurelia Lightwick was no exception. Everyone thought she was crazy when she'd appointed him as not only the Care of Magical Creatures professor, but the Herbology one as well. They were now combined into one class: Study of Magical Beasts and Beings. Quite a long name for his own taste, but he was rarely one to complain. Kainan - er, _Professor Ellwood _- pulled on his shirt as he went along, hurrying out of his quarters in a tizzy as he eagerly rushed passed the hordes of students. He noticed one thing about them, and it chilled him: most of them were at least fourth years. From what he had heard, only three first years had gotten out alive. The rest were still trapped. Shaking his head, Kainan focused on the task ahead of him: beating his students to his own class. It had been posted that today's lesson would be outside, right between the greenhouses and the forest.

Just as he had reached the outside of the grounds, there was a shrill yelp behind him. With a heaving sigh, Kainan looked to the source of the noise; his krup, Jack. "Well, come on then! I'm not bloody carrying you!" he told the dog severely, earning himself several off looks from the students around him. "Blimey, if I didn't know better I'd think you actually liked me." A few more very long strides and he was there, not to mention excited to find that he was the very first one. "Aha!" he exclaimed, and Jack gave him an odd bark as if to say, _You idiot_. Taking a few deep breaths, he readied himself for the day's lesson. He summoned the chalkboard from inside of the greenhouse, and began writing:

**Find a place to stand: no books or wands needed today, only your wits.**

Simple enough, eh? Professor Ellwood waited, leaning against one of the trees. The space between the side of the greenhouse and where the forest began was rather large, and provided an ample clearing for today's lesson. He really didn't have 'lessons' planned out, he was just going introduce them to as many creatures and plants as he could. Hopefully that would be enough. Jack barked loudly as the first student came around the corner, but not in an unfriendly way. He certainly did like the girls...

But it wasn't a girl. It was Damon Anglin, a sixth year Badger. How did he know this strapping young man? Well, he vaguely remembered the two of them standing on top of a bar, belting a Weird Sister's song at the top of their lungs. Damon had a fantastic voice. The professor grinned widely again, watching as Damon approached. The boy approached him, holding out his hand. Kain shook it firmly, giving him a sly wink. "Beautiful morning, huh? Professor." He bit back a laugh as memories of their little adventure flew back to him. Their encounter had occurred before him becoming a professor, of course.

"Beautiful morning indeed, Mr. Anglin."

"Wotcher, Damon!" Another Badger! The professor's smile widened as he saw Young Miss Weasley, who he had been warned about from Eleanor many times. Sure she loved them on the Quidditch Pitch, but as she put it, _"the only other place you'll ever see them is detention."_ "'Oo's the dog? And 'ello to you Fessor." Kainan only rolled his eyes good-naturedly.

"That's Jack," he said by way of a very short introduction.

Finally, they were joined by their first Raven, a young lady by the name of Ren Woodcroft. "Morning, Professor," she said to him, and he nodded in returned.

"Morning."

More and more students began to fill in, including another Badger who was obviously the first one's twin."And 'oo are you? 'Aven't met you before, 'ave I?" Kain raised an eyebrow, that same grin still on his face.

"Professor Ellwood. And while you don't know me I've heard a great deal about you two," he said, eying the first girl as well. But it wasn't meant in any way but a tease. He really didn't think that it would be a problem today. Finally, another Lion joined them, and it was none other than Richard Donnohan.

"I'll be back in just a moment," he told the gathering group. Stepping back, he ducked away towards the forest. It comforted him some, as he watched the small class grow. Maybe there would be a nice turnout today? Looking up, he surveyed each of the students, watching them as they interacted. This would be quite a lesson, that was for certain. Crossing his hands behind his back, Kainan waited for a few more students to enter before beginning the lesson.

To be honest, Kainan hadn't had a clue what he was going to plan for his first lesson. When he had asked Eleanor for advice, she hadn't been able to come up with anything either, and it wasn't for lack of trying on either of their parts. The two had sat there for quite some time, bouncing ideas off of each other. It was actualy Aurelia, the Headmistress, who had given him the idea. As he watched the students enter the area, he kept an eye on them. From inside the forest, he could hear the soft hoof beats, the impatient sighs of the beasts just behind the barrier of the forest. And today was a perfect day for it - dark and overcast. When it was getting close to class time, he looked at his Krup, Jack. "Keep an eye on them, eh mate?" he said to the dog, who let out a hushed bark in reply. Kainan then turned and stepped into the forest. They were only a few steps away from him, waiting for his signal, his command. Kainan always had a way with animals, especially with dogs and horses. This herd seemed to especially like him, with the way they followed his every move, listened to him and tried to follow him everywhere. A hand on his muzzle was all that was needed to guide the creature out of the forest. He was the only male of the heard, and Kainan fondly called him Sirius.

"Alright, class." he said, calling the entire group's attention. He wondered how many of them would be able to see the Thestral that he led. Siruis followed him obediently, and behind him were two females and foal. The little tyke was running just to keep up with his father and Kainan, oblivious to the students around him. Unlike most other professors, Kainan didn't need a piece of raw meat to get these animals to follow him. Parting the crowd, he made it to the center, with everyone around him in a circle. He knew that this would catch everyone's attention, even if it would be hard on them. If they had survived Hogwarts, and if they were going to survive the rest of the war, they would have to face facts. Kainan waited a few moments as the class gathered their wits, stroking the animal's hide. "I would like you all to meet Sirius and his herd. I want to see a show of hands," he said, his tone low and serious, "of how many people can see Sirius. If you cannot, step forward. If you can," Kainan said, turning to look at all of his students, "then it means you have faced the most concrete and absolute thing on this earth. Can someone explain to the class what Sirius is, and why you can or cannot see him?" he asked, looking around the clearing.

That was when he saw her. Kainan froze, his eyes meeting hers, his brain going zero to a hundred. _Sawyer. In his class. Because she's a student. _It was a good thing that he had chosen there to stop, because for several seconds he was completely unable to speak. Shock had struck him and he simply stood there. He didn't know how long it was registerable on his face, but he did his best to hide it. He was teaching a class, for Merlin's sake. _A class that Sawyer was in. Because she is a student. Because she is his student_. Sirius nudged him impatiently, and he knew that he couldn't just stand there like a bumbling idiot. Taking a deep breath, he forced his gaze away from her face, his heart wrenching terribly. As high as his hopes had been, they were now crushed completely. His attention went to Sirius while he listened to the student explain, and tried to think of what a mess he had created.

"They're Thestrals. Usually attracted to the smell of blood. They are completely invisible to anyone who has not seen death. People used to think they were bad omens, that seeing them was bad luck, but all it really meant was that you had watched someone die." Kainan's eyes moved to Wesley Potter, who had spoken up. Always the kid with the answers. Kainan knew him from before his classes, from before Patronus Academy. There were a few kids who they called "kids of the Order," and Wesley was perhaps the most infamous one. His father, James Sirius Potter, had been killed over a decade ago, but Kainan knew his mum well, and looked up to and respected her. Other kids of the Order were the Weasley twins, Richard and Patrick Donnohan, and a few others that weren't in his class today.

"Good answer, ten points to Lion house," he said, nodding. He was a good kid, he really was. When he brought the Thestrals out, even the Twins had gone quiet. At first he thought it might have been a bad idea, but then he looked at all of the hands raised, and knew that this lesson was better than any. It got his mind off of a certain Lion, and he had to try very hard to stay focused or he would lose it. But then, a Raven student spoke up. It was some kid named Azrael Weston, and he was also someone that he had been warned about. "_Professer_," he drawled, "don't you think it's rather crass of you to be drudging up such horrible memories for all of... _them_?" If anyone else had said it, maybe he might have listened, but Kainan only narrowed his eyes at the boy as he walked forward. Instantly, the Thestrals tensed, and Kainan had to herd them back, away from the idiot Raven. "_Any_ways, I can't see them professor. Guess I'm lucky I didn't have to see any of my mates die eh? Good thing. Guess I'd be feeling pretty lousy right about now."

The mood of his class shifted from greif to anger as every kid in the class began to get defensive. This kid's words hit home for nearly everyone. Kainan was about to give the boy some serious house-points deductions, but the Thestrals were sensing everyone's anger, and were getting a bit riled up themselves. His number one priority was everyone's safety, not some kid with a big mouth. Sawyer spoke up behind him, as Kainan began herding the Thestrals away from the kid, out of the group's way. There, they began to calm down a bit, and he listened to Sawyer's words as they began to forage the little patch of grass.

"On the contrary, while it'd be easy not to deal with what went down, it wold probably do us all some good to face the reality of it. Which is, we can't afford to be blind to what's out there, because it sure as hell isn't gonna go easy on any of us. We should learn from our past and let it strengthen us, not weaken us. So stop your whining and show some respect." A small smile crossed his face as he turned back to the students, but as he watched Richard launch himself at Weston, it vanished without a trace. He stopped for a moment, simply watching. Richard had gotten himself a good punch, breaking the boy's nose, but as blood started to gush out, the Thestrals could smell it.

"Keep it up, Weston," Richard said, an unbelievable amount of rage on his face. "And the only death you'll be seeing will be your own." It was obvious Azrael was getting a thrill from the reaction he'd caused, rather than being angry at the fact that his nose was now very much broken.

"Something I say bothering you Donnohan?" He managed to say, suddenly swinging at the other.

"As a matter of fact," Richard said through his teeth, "You did."

Kainan put up a shield charm over the Thestrals, a magical fence that they could not cross: they would be bound there so that they could not fly or run away. He could already see that the smell of blood was sending them into high alert. Kainan then turned to see Weston get in punch, before Richard flung himself at the boy.

"**Stop**!" Kainan commanded, his eyes dark. He rarely grew angry, but the students would feel his rage on the first lesson. His was was out before even he had realized it, magically separating the two boys. "Richard!" the professor said, "Take a walk. See me when you've calmed down," Ellwood ordered, and turned to the Raven. "Weston. Detention, tomorrow, noon. Get the hell out of my class, boy." His eyes narrowed at them both as he watched them leave, even though he was really only angry with one. He had to admit, he probably would have done the same damn thing in Richard's shoes - the kid had lost his brother and his father. But there was a reason he was a professor and they were students.

Turning back to the students once they were gone, he breathed a sigh. "Alright, students. Back to the lesson. Can anyone guess why only those who have seen death can see Thestrals? Someone besides Mr. Potter over here." It was his attempt at getting the class back to some kind of order. Everyone seemed to calm down once the two boys had left the class, and one Badger student had even spoken up.

"Perhaps those who have not witnessed death would be repulsed by the creatures appearances or mannerisms. If this is the case, it would be a natural way of protecting their existance, because those repulsed by the Thestral may intend to destroy them. And one who has witnessed death may be more experienced, more open-minded to things of this sort. More inclined to 'live and let live'." Kainan felt a soft smile spread across his lips for a moment.

"Very good answer, Miss Love. Fifteen to Badger House."

* * *

_"Sawyer. See me after class."_

Never in his life did Kainan need a drink more than he needed one right now. Running his hands through his messy hair, he screwed his eyes shut. For once, he had met someone who really accepted him, who didn't care that he was a bloody werewolf, and he could not have her. She was his bloody student. Kainan felt so stupid for not seeing it. Of course she's young, but he hadn't thought she was that young. Bloody hell, this was a mess. It was all he could do to go on with the lesson, to show the students Thestrals, how to find and ride one in case of an emergency. But he hadn't been able to look at her, to see her in his class. He had been so damn sure that this was going to work out. Sawyer had been great, he had even promised to take her out on a real date when he wasn't so busy. He'd been so damn excited, too. Sawyer had taken him and turned him all kinds of around in just a few meetings. It would have been different if he hadn't told her that he was a werewolf. Hell, it would have even been funny, but Kainan found no humor in this situation. None at all. His shack wasn't too far from where he had taught the lesson, so he took a brisk walk to it to clear his head. And to take a shot of firewhiskey. Probably not a good idea, but he certainly needed it right now. When he came back outside, he leaned against the bricks of his house, rubbing his face. This all had to be some kind of sick, twisted dream.

All of the students were gone now. All of them except her, of course. Sawyer was there, with those dark eyes and dark hair and her _bloody school uniform_. He was so disgusted with himself that he couldn't even think about how beautiful he still thought she was.

"This really makes me look like a creepy old man. I'm not old, I'm only twenty one for Merlin's sake. Tell me you're not a fifth year or something," he said, his tone flat and pained. Kainan had never known this kind of rejection before. He had never known this kind of pain, It struck him deeply, and it was evident on his face. Being a werewolf? That was something that could be worked out in a relationship, as long as both parties were okay with it. Which Sawyer had actually referred to it as 'cool,' so it wouldn't have been a problem. Being in the Order? That was something else that could be worked through. Being someone's professor? That would never, _ever _be able to work. First off, it was wrong. Everyone would think him sick, a 'cradle robber.' Jack was no where to be found, which Kainan was grateful for. he didn't need him jumping in and barking at him right now. Looking up, he finally met Sawyer's eyes. Maybe they could just forget this ever happened.

He had been so stupid to think that a teenaged girl hanging out in Eternael wasn't a student at Hogwarts, but he was so used to thinking as if he were not a professor... Well, he just hadn't been thinking. And she didn't look like any of the students he had seen so far. Sawyer had been different from everyone - and she still was. Even though he had learned that she was a student, as much as it killed him he was still attracted to her. He still thought she was beautiful, funny, intelligent. Nothing had been changed except for his own opinion of himself.

"No, I'm not. I'm a seventh year... and will be turning eighteen in a couple months," she said, and cleared her throat. Great, so she was just as uncomfortable with this as he was. "And you're not a creep. You had no way of knowing... neither of us did..." Biting her lower lip, she closed her eyes and looked away for a moment, before forcing herself to meet his eyes squarely again.

"Yeah, I suppose there are a lot of girls your age wandering around Eternael who aren't students," he said, his biting sarcasm covering up his own mistake. She was looking away from him, causing a knot to form in his stomach. She looked.. well, she looked about how he felt, only he felt worse for her than he did for himself. He wanted to reach out to her and pull her close, his fingers even twitched, but he remained motionless. He was having a hard time imagining himself never being able to touch her again.

She shrugged her shoulders, and the gesture was as helpless as it looked. "What do we do now?"

What did they do? They pretended as if that day had never happened. That was what they did. but even as he thought it, Kain knew he would never be able to forget it. Every time he looked at her he would think of things that were far to inappropriate for a normal teacher/student relationship. Running a hand through his hair again, he let out a sigh. "What do you _think_, Sawyer?" he asked. "Go about our normal lives. Pretend nothing ever happened," Kain told her. He had to be strong on this one - there was no way he could just had a relationship with her. It was so wrong that even he could imagine it. But the look on her face cut him to the bone, the sadness.

"No," she said, and he felt her move closer. Kainan was always more aware of everyone else around him then normal people, for obvious reasons, so even though he wasn't looking at her, he could feel her move towards him. Oh Merlin. "I'm sorry, Kain, but I can't do that." Another step, and his fingers began to loosen, his jaw slacking. "I can't just pretend that nothing happened, because it definitely wasn't nothing to me." Finally, he looked at her.

"Miss Ashbury. Please stop, I will not ask you again," he said, his tone low and angry. The look of hurt that crossed her face was almost too much for him. "I will see you Wednesday in class, if you still wish to continue your lessons." His voice was detached, just as it should be. Sawyer looked away from him, her dark hair covering her face from view.

"Yes, sir."

Eleanor was going to kill him.


End file.
